


they ain’t seen the last of me and you

by suzukiblu



Series: Avamorphs [6]
Category: Animorphs - Katherine A. Applegate, Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fusion, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Sibling Incest, but for obvious reasons I'm tagging for it anyway, kind of not really incest, look AUs are complicated
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-31
Updated: 2019-12-31
Packaged: 2021-02-27 12:07:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 19,649
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22056775
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/suzukiblu/pseuds/suzukiblu
Summary: < Yes, > Lu Ten says, and Lee groans from the ground. Toph hears him moving, probably to sit up.“Whathitme?” he mumbles.“A bullet, we think,” Aang says. “Or you hit your head when you fell in the pool. Or both.”“When I fell in thewhat?” Lee says.< There is no point in deception, > Lu Ten says. < I know you’re in there, Yeerk filth. >
Relationships: Aang/Katara (Avatar), Azula/Zuko (Avatar), Mai/Zuko (Avatar), Sokka/Suki (Avatar), Ty Lee/Zuko (Avatar)
Series: Avamorphs [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1581343
Comments: 39
Kudos: 420





	they ain’t seen the last of me and you

**Author's Note:**

  * For [palmtreesky](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=palmtreesky).



> Written for palmtreesky, who wanted some ATLA with Zuko and Sokka and got a Zuko-centric sequel to this very, very old fusion fic I wrote back in my LJ days, along with a bunch of updated versions of related ficbits that went up first, hah. I . . . I went a bit overboard, maybe, whoops? 
> 
> Look when the muse strikes you it strikes you, okay? 
> 
> This one’s the last update to the series, at least for now.

There’s a Jacuzzi full of Yeerks in the hospital, which is arguably what they were expecting but also not exactly what they were expecting. Aang didn’t really think about it while they were busy sneaking into the place in fly morph, honestly, but of course there’d be a pool. How else would the Yeerks be able to make new Controllers out of the patients, without a pool of other Yeerks to do it with? 

The Jacuzzi part is a little weird, though. 

People come here for _help_ , and this is what’s waiting for them. 

That’s . . . _so_ horrible. 

“We need to kill them,” Toph says immediately, thumping a fist on the side of the Jacuzzi. 

“They’re not in hosts,” Lee protests just as immediately. “They can’t fight _back_ like that.” 

“Yeah, I also regret not getting to trample anyone but what are you gonna do,” Toph says. 

“That’s not what I meant!”

“Better to kill them now than have to kill their hosts later,” Katara says grimly. 

“We have to do something,” Aang says, uncomfortable with the idea but obviously unable to avoid it. He doesn’t like the idea of killing defenseless people either, even if those people _are_ evil alien brainslugs. But Katara’s right—if they wait, it’ll be Controllers they have to kill, and innocent people will die. 

They’ve killed enough innocent people. He doesn’t want to add to the list. 

“They’re not even Controllers!” Lee hisses. 

“Yet,” Suki says. 

< They are Yeerk scum, > Lu Ten says. < They will all become Controllers. >

“I’m gonna squish ‘em,” Toph says matter-of-factly. 

“No, that’s—” Aang hesitates, then steels himself. He can’t ask any of the others to do it. Even if they’re _willing_ , it’s not right. If he can’t think of a better idea . . . “I’ll do it. Lu Ten, what’ll happen if we turn on the Jacuzzi?” 

< It . . . will be on? > Lu Ten says in confusion. 

“Sorry, I mean what’ll happen if the water goes up to one hundred and twenty degrees,” Aang says. “And gets super agitated at the same time.” 

< Ah, > Lu Ten says, all of his eyes flicking towards the pool. < I believe that would destroy them. >

“Well. That’s that, then,” Aang says, looking at the disconnected wires in the back of the Jacuzzi. It’s pretty obvious what they’re going to have to fix to get it up and running again. It doesn’t even look hard. “You guys should morph. Something that can fight, just in case.” 

“Now you’re talkin’, Twinkletoes,” Toph says with a grin. 

“ _Not_ an elephant, Toph,” Katara stresses. “An elephant won’t fit.” 

“Aw, you’re no fun.” 

“Aang, they can’t even _fight_!” Lee says as Aang searches the room and turns up some tape and a pair of tweezers. The girls are growing gray wolf fur and Lu Ten is watching the door in his own body, but Lee isn’t morphing. Aang doesn’t know what to say to him. He doesn’t know what to say to _himself_. 

“Neither can the patients here,” he says tightly, crouching down beside the damaged wires and starting to reconnect them. And that's to say nothing of the governor, who's due any day for his surgery and will be waking up with a Yeerk in his brain if they don't do something. 

He doesn't want to do this, but . . . 

“It’s not _right_!” Lee says, his expression frustrated, and Aang . . . he’s usually the one saying that. He’s always been the one saying that. 

He doesn’t know what else to do, though. 

“I know,” he says, and plugs in the Jacuzzi. Lee takes a step towards him, but whatever he was going to do doesn’t happen. 

That’s when the Controllers find them, is the thing. The door opens, and a man and a woman in white lab coats are standing in it, staring at them. Aang grabs Lee and yanks him down behind the pool where they can’t be seen. 

“Andalite!” the woman yelps, and Toph pounces her and knocks her to the floor. The man throws himself back out of the range of Lu Ten’s tail blade and Aang tries to concentrate to morph, his hands turning into hooves and shaggy fur starting to grow, but two more men barrel into the room, and these two—they’re guards, and they’re carrying guns. 

Oh no. 

“Lu Ten! Gun!” Aang cries, and Lu Ten’s tail flashes and the closest guard screams, his arm gone. Aang wants to throw up. 

“Get backup to the pool area! Andalites!” the other one screams into his walkie-talkie, then levels his own gun and—

BLAM! BLAM! BLAM! 

Lee collapses, and falls face-first into the Yeerk pool. Blood blossoms out from his head, and for a horrified moment Aang thinks he’s dead. He reflexively lets go of the bison morph to regain his hands and grabs him, struggling to drag him out of the pool. His hands are clumsy, not shaped quite right, and Lee is limp and heavy, but he manages it. Lee slumps in his arms, unconscious but alive with blood dripping from his injured temple and out of his ear, and Aang doesn’t know if he’s ever been so relieved in his life. There’s no bullet wound; just a graze. It’s bleeding a lot, but that’s normal for head wounds, right? 

Suki and Katara and Lu Ten are at the door, driving the human-Controllers back, but that’s only going to work for so long. The guard fires again—BLAM!—and Aang flinches at the sound. 

“Stop firing, you fool!” someone shouts. “The pool is in there! Ozai Three will eat your guts!” 

< Yeah, I need a bigger morph, > Toph says, stepping to the side as her fur starts melting away. < Cover me, guys. >

< Toph! > Katara cries. < An elephant is _not_ going to fit! >

< Relax, Sugarqueen, I’ll _make_ it fit. >

“Lee? Lee!” Aang shakes him. He stirs, but only just. Aang grabs the lab coat off one of the felled Controllers and throws it over Lee’s head and starts morphing. Lee’s clearly in no shape to be doing it himself. < Katara! Lee’s hurt, can you morph your horse?! >

< On it, > she says, falling back from the door as Toph lumbers forward in full elephant morph. 

< You know, I don’t think this door is big enough for me, > she says with malicious glee, then proceeds to trample her way through the wall and into the hallway, cackling the whole way. < Ahahahaha! Take _that_ , you stupid slimy brainslugs! And that! And that! And some of this! >

< I don’t think we’re getting Toph back, > Suki says. 

< Follow her! > Aang yells, and Toph leads the way out of the hospital, the rest of them running behind her with Lee on Katara’s back and Controllers chasing them the whole way. 

Well, they’ve had worse days. 

.

.

.

Zuko Five Three Three gets shot, or almost gets shot, and falls into the pool. His host hits its head and falls unconscious and starts to drown, and reflexive survival instinct has him pulling back from its brain. Yeerks don’t drown—at least, not in their native waters. But he doesn’t want his host to _die_ , either, and he surges back forward, struggling to wake it. 

That would be easier, except that’s when another Yeerk tries to crawl into his host’s head in the middle of their death throes. 

Zuko gets between them and its brain and cringes in horror, because he can hear them screaming and _feel_ them dying, thrashing desperately in his host’s ear, but there’s only room for one Yeerk in his host and he isn’t—he’s not—

He doesn’t want to die either. Not yet. 

A better Yeerk would never have been in this position, but Zuko is. 

He drives back the invading Yeerk, leaving them to die, and clumsy hands grab his host’s body and drag it out of the pool. Zuko tries to wrap around its brain again but there’s some kind of—injury, he thinks? A sudden swelling. It doesn’t block him, exactly, but he doesn’t want to touch it. Brains are delicate things, and he doesn’t know enough about human ones to know if it’s safe. He doesn’t want to damage his host any more than necessary. 

He tries to figure out how to work around the injury while the humans are shouting and fighting, but he can’t even get his host to wake up. He feels bruised and sensitive and that doesn’t help either, but he manages to get just enough control to hang onto the sister’s horse morph and keep the lab coat over his host’s head as they flee. He does _not_ want to explain this to Azula Eight Nine Five. 

He doesn’t even want to explain this to himself. 

Why does he keep doing this? Why does he keep letting the Andalite’s memories control him so easily, stop him every time he tries to report to a superior or tell another Yeerk the truth? 

Ozai Three is going to kill him for this. 

But a proper Yeerk would tell anyway. 

< Host, > he says as they come to a halt in a grassy field that looks like just the kind of place Andalites and Andalite-sympathizers would retreat to. < _Host_. > His hosts barely stirs. The sister demorphs, and checks on it worriedly. He still can’t get it to wake up or get enough control to do much of anything. He just doesn’t know if that injury’s safe to touch, and unfortunately there’s some important motor control in that part of the brain. With his host unconscious, there’s no way to access it. 

That might be a problem, he thinks. 

.

.

.

They collapse in exhaustion in a field outside town, having long since lost the human-Controllers following them. There’s probably going to be a very confused news report about wolves and bison and elephants running through town sometime tonight, but that’s just the price of doing business. 

“That was _awesome_!” Toph crows breathlessly, shaking her hair out of her face as the last of her human body comes back to her and her eyes, mercifully, turn back off. That went _beautifully_. Well, maybe it would’ve been better if the Controllers hadn’t caught them right in the middle of things, but still. 

“That was _not_ awesome,” Katara says with a groan, her voice raised just enough to hear from the far end of the field. 

“Is everyone okay?” Aang asks worriedly. 

< I mean, you’re all HERE, at least, > Sokka says. Toph didn’t even notice him before she demorphed, and she reaches out searchingly until her hands find his familiar fur. He pushes into the contact and she grins, giving him a quick scruffing. She feels his tail hit her side as he wags it. < Lee does not look great, for the record. Also he stinks like Yeerk, it is _super_ gross. >

“He _might’ve_ fallen into the pool,” Aang says. 

< He what? > Lu Ten asks in alarm. 

“You should really morph human again, we’re not that far out of town,” Suki warns him. 

“He fell into the pool,” Aang says. “I think one of the bullets ricocheted or something and hit him in the head.” 

“He’s still bleeding,” Katara says. “He held onto me okay while we were running, but . . . Lee? Are you alright? Can you hear me?” 

“Is he awake?” Aang says. 

“. . . I’m not sure?” Katara says skeptically. Toph cocks her head with a frown, not sure how _Katara_ wouldn’t be sure about that. It seems like a pretty open-and-shut kind of thing. 

“Just punch him,” she says. That’ll answer the question of how awake he is pretty easy, she figures. 

“I am not _punching_ him, Toph,” Katara says in exasperation. “He’s _injured_.” 

“When are we not?” Toph snorts dubiously. They get hurt a _lot_ since they started being Animorphs. She’s gotten used to it, personally, and Lee’s obviously used to it too. 

< His ear is bleeding, > Lu Ten says in a weird tone. 

“Uh, Lu Ten, you really _should_ morph human if you can,” Aang says. “Or at least we should get further into the woods.” 

“Lee? Lee, can you hear me?” Katara says again. 

< I think I hear a car coming, > Sokka says, and then it’s a mad scramble to get out of the field and into the relative safety of the trees. Toph keeps a hand on Sokka’s ruff as they head into the woods and he warns her about tree roots and rocks, and the others figure out something with Lee, she assumes. At least, she can hear them running behind them, and she’s pretty sure they’re all there—except for Lu Ten, anyway, who’s galloped ahead. 

She never used to run half as much as she’s been running since they met Iroh, but it’s pretty exhilarating, she’s not gonna lie. 

“I love this job,” Toph says as they finally stop, scruffing Sokka’s fur again with a wide grin. 

“I think Lee’s concussed,” Katara says, the buzzkill. Toph can hear rustling from her direction, and she thinks it’s where most of the others are. Lu Ten’s still ahead of them, doing whatever weird alien deertaurs do. 

< He would be, the dork, > Sokka says, and Toph sniggers. She hears the sound of retching and smells bile and makes a face. 

“Gross,” she says. “Who’s that?” 

“Lee,” Katara says. “I _told_ you he’s concussed.” 

< And apparently swallowed half the Yeerk pool, _yuck_ , > Sokka says. 

“Maybe we need a doctor,” Aang says uncertainly. 

“ _Can_ we go to a doctor?” Suki asks in concern. “I mean, they won’t notice anything weird?” 

“. . . good question,” Katara says. 

“We should probably figure that one out pretty soon, ‘cause my parents make me go to a _lot_ of doctors,” Toph says, making a face again. She really doesn’t want to out them because morphing makes her biologically weird or something. 

“Lu Ten?” Aang asks. “Do you know if morphing does anything weird to, like . . . I don’t know, blood tests and stuff?” 

< I do not, > Lu Ten says as he comes back to the group. He sounds tense. < We have larger concerns, however. >

“We do?” Toph immediately bristles, expecting a fight. Did the Controllers catch up to them? 

< Yes, > Lu Ten says, and Lee groans from the ground. Toph hears him moving, probably to sit up. 

“What _hit_ me?” he mumbles. 

“A bullet, we think,” Aang says. “Or you hit your head when you fell in the pool. Or both.” 

“When I fell in the _what_?” Lee says. 

< There is no point in deception, > Lu Ten says. < I know you’re in there, Yeerk filth. >

.

.

.

The brother says something, and the sister and the brother’s mate drag Zuko's host to his feet and they flee again. Zuko is still too busy reeling to sort out what’s actually going on, and too concerned about the status of his host to care. Is it dying? Is this how humans die? 

He doesn’t want that to happen. For obvious reasons—a wasted host, the likelihood it’ll take him with it, all those things—but also because he just doesn’t want it to die. His host has been a good host, mostly, and . . . 

And he’s not sure where he was going with the rest of that thought, really. 

They stop running. The humans and the Andalite are talking, and Zuko’s host finally, _finally_ starts stirring properly. It vomits bile and sludge all over the forest floor, but at least it’s awake. 

“What _hit_ me?” it says dizzily, disoriented. It gropes in its mind for Zuko, and Zuko reaches out for it in turn. His host relaxes at the contact, though it’s clearly puzzled to be in control of its own body with him in its head. He makes to explain, but—

“A bullet, we think,” the leader says. Aang. The “prince”. “Or you hit your head when you fell in the pool. Or both.” 

“When I fell in the _what_?” Zuko’s host says. 

< There is no point in deception, > the Andalite says. < I know you’re in there, Yeerk filth. >

Zuko freezes. _How_ —after all this time, how _possibly_ —

“What?!” the sister says incredulously. 

< He fell in the pool, > the Andalite says. < He has been compromised. >

“He was only in there a few seconds!” the leader protests. 

< His ear is bleeding, > the Andalite says. 

“Yeah, ‘cause he got _shot_!” 

< A Yeerk can infest a host very quickly, > the Andalite says. < It would explain the extended nonresponsiveness. Trying to control a new host can be difficult. >

“He was _unconscious_ ,” the sister says. 

“That’s some pretty thin logic, Lu Ten,” Zuko’s host says. 

< Silence, Yeerk scum, > the Andalite says coldly. Zuko’s host laughs at him. 

“Wow,” he says. “Okay, Andalite filth.” 

“Stop it!” the leader says, stepping in-between them and holding up his hands. “That’s enough. The Yeerks in the pool were _dying_ , Lu Ten, how could they have infested _anyone_?” 

< I think we are all intimately aware of the sort of things a dying sentient can accomplish, > the Andalite says. 

“Well, they clearly didn’t accomplish it very well,” Zuko’s host says, rubbing at its bleeding ear and then making a face at the blood on its fingertips. “There’s nobody in here who wasn’t here half an hour ago.” 

< Very funny, > Zuko says. 

< I thought so, > his host says. < Are you okay? You never let me run the body this long. >

< You're injured, > Zuko informs him. < Your brain is swollen. I’m not sure if it's safe to touch. >

< Great, > his host says. < Another concussion. >

< “Concussion”? > Zuko asks, and gets a definition slotted into his mind from the other’s memories. Most of them are associated with his host’s superior officer—father. He always forgets the difference. Not that it really matters anymore anyway; it’s been a long time since his host had to answer to that man. Jee Five Three Three answers to _him_. < Ah, I see. Then yes, another concussion. >

< Awesome, > his host says dryly, then gets to its feet. It wobbles a bit, then bends over and throws up again. 

“Lee!” The sister grabs its shoulders. Zuko can feel it, but he can’t do anything about it. Not without risking injuring his host worse, anyway. “Be careful, you could have a concussion.” 

“I definitely have a concussion,” Zuko’s host says, wiping at its mouth with the back of its hand. “Ugh. Don’t suppose anybody packed gum in their morphing outfit?” 

< _Listen_ to me! > the Andalite says in frustration. < You cannot trust him! >

“Thanks, that’s really nice to hear after we saved your butt from Ozai Three,” Zuko’s host says dubiously. 

< Prince Aang! > The Andalite turns to the leader. < You _must_ listen to me! >

“Calm down, Lu Ten,” the leader says. “I mean, we’d _know_ if Lee was a Controller.” 

Zuko’s host laughs. The Andalite stomps a hoof in the grass. 

< You would not! > he says angrily. < That is what Yeerks _do_! They lie and deceive and pretend to be who they are not! >

“I mean, yeah, but he didn’t get infested right in _front_ of us!” the sister says. “We’d know!” 

< Clearly you do not! >

< We should’ve let him drown down there, > Zuko’s host says. Its head is throbbing, and its patience is thin. 

“Lu Ten, come on, we’d _know_ ,” the leader says. “Look at him!” 

< Apparently I am the only one who _has_! >

< What’s the big deal? > the brother asks, scratching behind his ear with a hind paw. < Your dad lets you do whatever, right, Lee? Just call and tell him you’re spending the weekend at Aang’s place. >

“What?” the leader says. “Why would he—oh. Oh!” 

“You want to keep Lee away from home for three _days_?” the brother’s mate says skeptically, and Zuko immediately feels ill. 

< Why not? > The brother gives a canine shrug. < We don’t have any other missions right now. Either the hospital thing worked or it didn’t. >

“Okay, so are _you_ gonna be the one explaining to my girlfriend where I’m gonna be?” Zuko’s host says. “Because Ty Lee is not gonna accept ‘hanging out with a twelve year-old’ as an excuse for me ignoring her all weekend.” 

< So like, text her, geez, > the brother says. < It’s the safest thing to do. No offense, Lee, but Lu Ten _does_ have a point. Like, you were literally _in_ the pool, right? >

“Barely,” Zuko’s host says. Its headache is getting worse. 

< You were unconscious, dude, I don’t know if I trust your opinion of “barely”, > the brother says. Zuko _hates_ him, the stupid _nothlit_ mutt. 

“I mean, it’s only three days, what’s three days?” the youngest female says. “I’d _love_ three days out of my house.” 

“Aang, _please_ explain to these idiots why I can’t spend three full days . . . wherever the hell they want to stick me,” Zuko’s host snaps. “I have stuff to do. I have a _life_.” 

“I mean . . .” the leader starts hesitantly, and Zuko might be about to have a panic attack. Yeerks don’t really do that kind of thing, but he’s willing to make an exception in this situation. 

_“Aang,”_ his host says. “What happens if my dad calls your grandfather and wants to know where I am? What happens when I stand Ty Lee up and miss the Sharing meeting?” 

“Lu Ten could morph you,” the leader says, still hesitant. 

“Lu Ten can’t even eat a cinnamon bun without making a scene!” Zuko’s host says in exasperation. “How’s he going to act normal in a room that’s half full of Controllers?!” 

“That _would_ be a problem,” the sister says warily. 

“So would Lee being a Controller,” the youngest female says. 

< We cannot risk the fate of this entire planet because of _cinnamon buns_ , > the Andalite says. < Pretend to be ill. Pretend to have a prior engagement or that your father demands your presence somewhere. Just _lie_. >

“Because _that_ isn’t risky or anything. I get caught I’m gonna end up on a _milk_ carton or something,” Zuko’s host says. 

And if they told any of those lies, Jee Five Three Three would know something was wrong immediately, to say nothing of Azula Eight Nine Five. Zuko can’t imagine what he _could_ say to get away from both of them for three full days, even if he wanted to. 

That’s not the problem, of course. 

The problem is that he doesn’t _have_ three days. 

He’s due at the pool tonight. 

.

.

.

Lee is moving wrong. He’s holding himself very stiff and still. Maybe he’s dizzy? Because of the concussion? 

Maybe he’s a Yeerk. 

Suki hasn’t weighed in on the Controller argument, because Suki’s watching him move. Everyone else is arguing or protesting or insisting, but she . . . 

She’s just watching him move, and it’s all _wrong_. Too stiff. Too still. Too restrained and withheld, when normally an arguing Lee would be stomping around and gesturing with his hands and making a fuss. Instead he looks like he’s holding something back, or like he’s trying not to do something. 

It could just be the concussion. He could be trying not to throw up again. He could . . . 

“I say he stays,” Suki says, and Lee gives her a betrayed look. She tries not to wince. “We’ll tell our parents we’re going camping.” 

“We have school on Monday,” Lee says. “Also, we have literally never been camping in our _lives_.” 

“I have,” Suki says. “Say it was my idea.” 

< That’d work. Then you can say you got lost and just come back Monday night, > Sokka says. < There’s plenty of woods around here, we could hide for _weeks_ if we wanted. >

“But if _I’m_ missing . . .” Katara starts hesitantly, tugging at a lock of her hair. 

< Ooo, yeah, good point, > Sokka says. < Maybe not you, Katara. But the rest of you could totally do it! >

“My parents will never let me go camping,” Toph says grumpily, folding her arms. “They’d have a _fit_.” 

“Okay, it’s not a perfect plan,” Suki says with a wince. She didn’t think about Toph and Katara’s family situations, though she really should’ve. “Maybe Katara could come back on Sunday and say she got separated from us?” 

“We’d have to get pretty lost,” Aang says, frowning to himself. “But . . . maybe?” 

“There’d be _search_ parties, Aang,” Lee says in exasperation. 

“We can hide from search parties,” Suki says. “They won’t be looking for wolves.” 

“Maybe, but we have to demorph _sometime_ ,” Lee says. 

< I don’t, > Sokka says. < I can keep watch. >

“It’ll work, Lee,” Suki says firmly. “We might get in trouble with our parents after and Ty Lee might be upset, but you understand it’s still better safe than sorry, right?” 

< You have no protests to that, surely. If you are not a Yeerk, of course, > Lu Ten says, and Lee’s expression sours. Maybe because Lu Ten keeps insisting he’s a Controller. Maybe because he _is_ a Controller. 

“I have _tons_ of protests and they are all very human ones, thanks,” he says. 

“I mean, it _is_ better safe than sorry,” Aang says, though he still looks uncertain. “You get it, right, Lee?” 

“I do not,” Lee says. “We’re gonna get caught.” 

“A Controller would say that too, is the problem,” Suki says. Lee glares at her. It’s a pretty bad glare, but it _seems_ human. And Lee’s gotten mad over a lot less than this, too. 

Somehow it still looks different from his usual glares, though. 

And he’s still holding himself too stiff and still. 

.

.

.

The Andalite sways the humans, and Zuko’s host fails to. The humans take them to a wooden shack in the woods out back of the sister’s barn and begin discussing how to enact their plan. Zuko is . . . not happy, to put it mildly. 

< They don’t believe me, > his host says, tense and anxious. 

< Andalites are convincing, > Zuko says wearily. He’s trying to think of an out that’ll get them out in time, but . . . 

“You should text Ty Lee,” the brother’s mate says, glancing over to them. “Tell her . . . something.” 

“Yeah, whatever,” Zuko’s host mutters sourly, pulling out their cell phone. “She is _not_ gonna like this.” 

Azula Eight Nine Five is _really_ not going to like this. 

There’s things they could text her—emergency code phrases they’d worked out in advance, just in case—and obviously tracking a human cell phone is nothing for Yeerk technology, but . . . 

But. 

But _blue-green grass, and wide-open skies, and—_

Zuko steels himself. Now is _not_ the time to let the damn Andalite’s memories distract him. Ozai Three is going to kill him as soon as he finds out about this, but if he doesn’t call for help he’s going to die anyway, and die without ever telling his people the truth. 

And if he’s going to die, he at least wants to do it on his own terms. 

< Why would they kill you? > his host says. < You can morph. >

< _You_ can morph, > Zuko corrects. < The Visser will starve me out of your head and give you to a new Yeerk. >

< I don’t _want_ a new Yeerk, > his host says. 

< You won’t have a choice, > Zuko says. 

< I could run, > his host says, flicking its eyes towards the Andalite and the humans. 

< You’re concussed, > Zuko says. < You’re barely _walking_ straight. >

< Yeah, but if I morph that’ll go away, right? > his host says impatiently. < Injuries never last when you morph. >

< You’d have to convince them to allow you to morph, first, > Zuko says. He considers trying to touch the swollen part of the other’s brain again, but he still doesn’t know if it’s safe. It doesn’t really matter who’s controlling the body right now anyway; both of them are just as trapped as the other. 

His host, of course, will survive this. 

One of them may as well, he supposes. 

< They’re not convinced. They’ll get sloppy, > his host says determinedly. < We just have to wait. >

< We have eight hours before Kandrona starvation kills me, > Zuko says. < Less before it starts affecting me. >

< We _could_ actually text Azula Eight Nine Five, > his host says. < If that wouldn’t get you killed. >

< That would definitely get me killed, > Zuko says. < You need to text her _something_ , though, they’ll get suspicious if you don’t. >

< Yeah, I got it, > his host says, already typing. _got held up. go without me._

_held up?_ Azula texts back. 

_tell you later,_ Zuko’s host replies, then puts away the phone. < There. She thinks we mean go to the pool without us and if anybody else looks _they’ll_ think we mean go to the _meeting_ without us. And we’ll have plenty of time to come up with an excuse for Azula later. I’m leaning towards “thought we were getting followed by an Andalite bandit”. >

< Good work, > Zuko says, because it is. His host preens. 

< I know, > it says smugly. < Now we just wait for them to screw up, and then we’re out of here. >

.

.

.

Suki and Sokka go to her place so she can ask her dad about the camping trip, Toph goes home to _try_ and ask her parents because she might as well, Aang goes to call his grandpa, and Lu Ten goes to check the woods and make sure no one’s followed them. Katara gets left with Lee-sitting duty, which is a bit frustrating. She _knows_ they need to be careful, but it’s _Lee_. It’s not like he disappeared and came back acting suspicious or something, they were right there the whole _time_. 

And she knows what it does to people, when someone’s missing. Sokka should know too. 

She doesn’t want to do that to anyone else’s family, even if it’s just for a day. 

“Sorry,” she says to Lee, sitting down beside him. “Not our best plan, obviously.” 

“It’s not on you,” he says with a sigh. “Ty Lee’s gonna kick my ass on Tuesday, though.” 

“Yeahhh.” Katara winces. “You can blame us? Say we got you lost and all.” 

“I am absolutely blaming you guys,” Lee confirms dryly, and Katara lets out a guilty giggle. 

“Sorry,” she says again. “It’ll be okay, she’ll forgive you.” 

“Yeah,” Lee says, an odd look crossing his face. He looks at her for a long moment and then, carefully, says: “But it’s not her I’m worried about.” 

“It’s not?” Katara blinks at him in confusion. Who else would he be worried about? 

“No,” Lee says. “Ty Lee’ll be upset, but she’ll be happy enough to see me okay that she won’t care. My dad’s going to get _pissed_ , though.” 

“I mean, if _anyone’s_ going to be glad to see you okay . . .” Katara says. 

“It’s not gonna be him,” Lee says, shaking his head. Katara frowns. 

“He’s your _dad_ ,” she says. “Why wouldn’t he be glad you were okay?” 

“He’s my _dad_ , that’s why,” Lee says. “My dad’s never been glad about _anything_.” 

“I know you guys don’t get along, but of course he’s gonna _worry_ about you, Lee,” Katara says gently, putting a hand on his shoulder. Maybe it’ll even be good for them, kind of, if Lee’s dad realizes how little attention he’s been paying to him. Although that might make Animorph stuff a little more difficult, but it’d be a fair exchange. 

“It’s not that. Look,” Lee says uncomfortably, slanting his eyes away. “I didn’t wanna tell _everybody_ this, but . . .” 

“But what?” Katara’s frown deepens. He’s acting weird. Not Controller-weird—she can’t imagine a Yeerk ever seeming _vulnerable_ —but definitely weird. 

“You have to promise you won’t tell the others,” Lee says. 

“I promise,” Katara says immediately, because now _she’s_ worried. 

“He’s going to be mad at me,” Lee says. 

“Lee—” 

“I mean it,” he interrupts her. “Really mad.” 

“What do you mean?” she says, frowning again. The look on his face is really . . . it’s very . . . 

She doesn’t get it. 

“Do you remember that burn scar I used to have?” Lee says, pointing at his temple. “Right here?” 

“Oh yeah,” Katara says, automatically reaching to brush his hair out of his face and looking at the unmarred skin there. She’d only seen it a couple times, really—Lee’s hair was almost always covering it even when it _was_ there—but she remembers it. It was pretty bad. He’s lucky nobody’s noticed it’s gone; she’s not sure how he’d explain that one, because “alien morphing technology” would definitely not work. 

“That was him,” Lee says, and Katara forgets what she was thinking about entirely. 

“What?” she says. 

“That was him,” Lee repeats. “He hit me with a pan.” 

“He _what_?!” Katara says in horror, staring at him. Lee looks away. 

“It doesn’t matter,” he says. “Just—he’s not gonna react well to this.” 

_“Lee,”_ Katara says, still more horrified and putting her hands on his shoulders. He still isn’t looking at her. He looks—upset, maybe. Or worse, ashamed. She doesn’t know what to say at all. 

“Forget it,” he says. “It’s fine.” 

“That’s not _fine_ ,” she says. “That’s not fine at all! Lee, why didn’t you _tell_ us?!” 

“It’s not a big deal,” Lee says tonelessly, his face blank. “The others are right. Better safe than sorry.” 

Katara cannot think of a _single_ reason the others would be okay with letting Lee get hurt like that, ever. She can’t think of a single reason _anyone_ would. 

“That’s not true!” she says. “Just—hold on, I’m going to go get Aang. I won’t tell him, but we’ll come up with a new plan, okay?” 

She doesn’t wait for his answer, just shoves to her feet and rushes out of the shack. She just can’t stand the thought of Lee suffering like that — _scared_ like that—and them making it worse. It’s too horrible. 

“Aang!” she cries as she bursts into the barn, and Aang nearly drops his phone. 

“Katara?!” he says in alarm. “What’s wrong?!” 

“It’s—” she hesitates, not sure how to put it without betraying her promise to Lee, and the color goes out of his face. 

“Sorry, Grandpa, Katara needs me, see you Sunday, bye!” he says quickly, and hangs up the phone and rushes over to her. “What happened?! Did Lee hurt you?!” 

“It’s not that,” Katara says just as quickly, shaking her head. “We need a new plan.” 

“What? Why?” Aang gives her a confused look. 

“This one won’t work,” Katara says. “Look, it’s—just come back to the shack with me and we’ll figure it out there, okay?” 

“Okay, Katara,” Aang says, still looking confused, and follows her back to the shack. 

Katara’s trying to figure out how to explain and almost overshoots it, so they have to double back a bit. Aang looks around, looking confused. 

“Where’s Lu Ten?” he asks with a frown. “Is he inside?” 

“What?” Katara says. “No, he’s not back from making sure we weren’t followed.” 

“So who’d you leave with Lee?” Aang asks. 

“No one,” Katara says, frowning too as she opens the door of the shack. “Why?” 

Aang looks in past her, and all the color goes out of his face again. 

“Katara,” he says in a very weird voice, and she gives him a puzzled look, then turns to look into the shack too. 

It’s empty. 

.

.

.

Zuko’s host flees the moment the sister is gone, and morphs into the wolf as it runs. It’s not a very fast morpher—Zuko’s always been the slowest, and his host is even slower than him due to lack of practice—but the distance back to the barn is more than enough to give it the time it needs, and it takes full advantage of that fact. Zuko’s impressed, frankly. He wouldn’t have thought to use that angle on the sister. He probably wouldn’t have thought to use that angle at all, if it came to it. 

< I can’t believe that worked, > he says. 

< What, I was gonna sit around and listen to you die? > his host snorts. < It was that or I coldcocked her, and humans don’t usually stay unconscious very long. >

< You were unconscious for some time, > Zuko says. 

< I got _shot_ , > his host says. < Pretty sure I can’t hit as hard as a bullet. >

< I guess not, > Zuko says. He’d wrap himself around the other’s brain properly again now that the concussion’s no longer a concern, but when they morph he can never seem to control that kind of thing. He isn’t exactly sure what _happens_ to him when they morph, especially when it’s a particularly small creature, and he prefers not to worry too much about it. His host is controlling the wolf well enough anyway, so it doesn’t really matter. 

< This is weird, > his host says. < Usually I’m the passenger. >

< You say that as if you haven’t hijacked control from me a dozen times this week alone, > Zuko says dryly. 

< Get better at running the body and I won’t have to, > his host huffs, leaping over a fallen tree. It’s running as fast as a wolf can—a bit under forty miles per hour, if Zuko remembers what the sister told them correctly—and it’s showing no signs of slowing down. Wolves are more distance runners than sprinters, but the clock _is_ ticking, so Zuko’s not complaining. He’s already hungry. He doesn’t want to feel what Kandrona starvation is like. He’s heard stories, and none of them were at all pleasant. 

< Careful, > he says, though he doesn’t really want to. < If you wear the wolf out now they might catch up later. >

< Yeah, good luck catching up at the _pool_ , > his host says dubiously as it runs through a shallow creek. 

< Not to use the human term, but better safe than sorry, > Zuko says, and his host laughs. 

< Weirdo, > it says. < All we have to do is get into town. What’re they gonna do, send an elephant after us? >

< I can’t say they WOULDN’T, > Zuko says, because the youngest female really is a _terror_ when her blood is up. 

He doesn’t know what they’re going to do after this. The humans won’t trust them anymore, obviously, but Ozai Three will still kill him if he confesses to him. And—

_blue-green grass, and wide open skies—_

And the damn Andalite’s memories _still_ won’t shut up, either. Ozai Three would probably be _right_ to kill him—he’s compromised. 

< I don’t care, > his host says. < He’s not gonna kill you. >

< That is very, very unlikely, > Zuko says. His host snorts, then stiffens. 

< I smell something weird, > it says. 

< Weird? > Zuko frowns, trying to place the scent himself. He’s not sure it’s something they’ve smelled before, at least not as a wolf. < Avoid it. It might be dangerous. >

< _We’re_ dangerous, > his host says, but listens. Small favors, since there’s not much Zuko could do to stop it right now. They run away from the strange scent, and his host keeps alert for signs of civilization to head towards. 

Then the strange scent starts catching up. The wolf bristles, and Zuko’s host reacts similarly. Zuko himself doesn’t know what to expect. Should they try to outrun it? Stand and fight? 

Before he has any idea what to do, it cuts them off, and a familiar and loathsome shape steps out of the darkness of the forest. 

< Did you really think you’d get away, Yeerk scum? > the Andalite says, and Zuko’s host _growls_. 

< Okay, > Zuko says. < This is fine, we can get past it. Andalites can’t run as long as wolves can, we just need to— >

< Yeah, no, > his host says, and leaps for the Andalite’s throat. Zuko curses in Hork-Bajir, and the Andalite’s tail whips at them. His host’s teeth close on empty air and a hot line of pain tears down its flank. Zuko feels it, though only distantly—he’s not connected enough for more. His host _snarls_ , and snaps its teeth again. This time it ends up with a mouthful of delicate Andalite arm, and wrenches violently. The Andalite screams in their minds, its tail flashing in the dark, and it stabs through the wolf’s ribs. 

It kills them, technically. 

< Demorph, > Zuko says immediately, because his host is so _slow_ at it and might bleed out before it can, < demorph demorph _demorph_! >

His host staggers. The Andalite is holding its elbow. It looks like the shoulder’s been pulled out of the socket, and it’s bleeding all the way down its forearm. That wicked tail blade is dripping with their blood. 

Zuko’s host demorphs, to his relief. The Andalite steps forward, looming in the dark with its bloody tail blade at the ready. 

< I will kill you if I must, > the Andalite says coldly. < Better to die than live as a Controller. >

“Seriously?” Zuko’s host says with a laugh. “You buy that bullshit?” 

Zuko takes back over, for obvious reasons. Or at least as much back over as he ever can, with this host. 

.

.

.

Lu Ten walks the Yeerk in Lee’s body back to the shack, arm bleeding and tail blade held tense and ready to strike the whole time. He does not know how the Yeerk escaped, but he prepares himself for the worst. He was lucky to catch it at all. 

They get halfway there before Prince Aang and Katara show up in wolf morph. 

< Lu Ten! > Prince Aang says in relief. 

< You _liar_! > Katara shrieks at the Yeerk, lunging towards it. Prince Aang crashes into her side before she can put her teeth in Lee’s throat. Another example of humans stopping each other, Lu Ten thinks. 

< Are you injured? > he asks them. < How did the Yeerk escape? >

The Yeerk laughs, low and nasty. Katara _fumes_ , hackles rising as she growls up at it. 

< He tricked Katara, > Prince Aang says. 

< He _lied_ to me! > Katara hisses. < You horrible _slug_! I’m going to watch you starve! >

“Katara—” the Yeerk starts, raising its hands in a position of surrender, and she snarls at it again. 

< Shut up! I don’t want to hear anything from you, you awful thing! > she says furiously. < How _dare_ you! >

“Thanks, Lu Ten,” Prince Aang says as he demorphs, putting a hand on Katara’s ruff. She growls again, deeper. “You really saved our butts.” 

< I told you that you could not trust him, > Lu Ten says. He can’t imagine what the Yeerk could’ve possibly said to trick Katara into letting it escape, but then again, that is what Yeerks do—they lie, and deceive, and make people believe they are what they are not. < We should restrain him from now on, before the Yeerk forces us to hurt Lee. >

< We should hang him upside-down, > Katara says darkly, which doesn’t sound like a bad idea, really, except for the fact that Lee’s in there too. Still, it’s tempting. 

“We just have to keep him contained,” Prince Aang says. “We don’t want to hurt Lee.” 

“Look, I can explain,” the Yeerk says, still holding Lee’s hands up. 

< Lee, he’s going to suffer so much, I promise you, > Katara says. < He’ll wish he’d boiled in that pool with all the rest of them. >

The Yeerk flinches. Katara growls. 

“Katara . . .” Prince Aang says, wincing. 

< He deserves it, > she says, and they all walk the Yeerk the rest of the way back to the shed, Prince Aang carefully picking his way through the forest mast on bare feet. The Yeerk is doing the same, as if it actually cared about the well-being of its host. Lu Ten is not fooled. 

< Guys! > Sokka runs up to them as the shack appears in the distance, jumping excitedly. < Where’ve you been, we were worried! What happened to your arm?! >

< The Yeerk made a run for it, > Katara says darkly, stalking right past him. 

< Oh, > Sokka says, stopping in his tracks. < Guess we’re sure on that now, then. >

< Yes, we are, > Lu Ten says, still holding his injured arm. Suki is outside the shack with Toph, both of them waiting for the rest of them. Suki takes one look at them and the line of her mouth sours. 

“Sorry, Lee,” she says. “We should’ve known.” 

Lu Ten resists the urge to remind them all that _he_ knew, because his “I told you so” doesn’t need repeated that many times. The humans are not as familiar with Yeerks. Of course they’d thought they were still seeing their friend in Lee. The Yeerk had done its best to make sure they would. 

< Yeerks are liars, > he says instead, and they tie the Yeerk to a chair in the shack. It does not resist; does not speak. Lee’s eyes flick from side to side quickly—the Yeerk is thinking, no doubt, trying to come up with an out. Lu Ten won’t leave the space for it to find one. He wasn’t lying, before: he’ll kill Lee if it comes to it. 

Better to die than live as a Controller. To be forced to fight and betray one’s own people, one’s own _friends_. The Yeerks would never give a host that could morph the mercy of death, and they are all young; they would live for a long, long time, and spend all of it suffering. 

Lu Ten will not allow that to happen. 

.

.

.

< Dammit, > Zuko says. 

< It’s my fault, > his host says. < I should’ve gone for the tail. >

< It’s not your fault, > Zuko says. < Andalites are just like that. >

< Yeah, fuck those guys, > his host says, and the leader closes the door of the shack. The humans are all jammed in here, and of course the Andalite too, its tail blade ever-ready to strike. Of course. 

“We should question it,” the brother’s mate says. “Now that we’re sure.” 

“What’s it going to tell us?” the sister says with a glower. She’s in the corner, stewing. The leader is next to her, failing to fix that fact. “More lies? We can’t believe anything a _Yeerk_ says.” 

“Maybe not,” the brother’s mate says, then looks at Zuko. “Kandrona starvation hurts, right? I bet it hurts.” 

“You realize there’s no reason to cooperate with you, right?” Zuko says. 

“Sure there is,” the brother’s mate says. “If we kill you, you won’t have to go through that.” 

“Yeah, fuck that,” Zuko’s host says while Zuko is considering it. She does have a point, but he isn’t going to go out betraying his people one last time. He’s done enough of that for one lifetime. 

He should’ve sent Azula Eight Nine Five the emergency code. He _knows_ he should’ve. He’s still dead either way, and that’d be the way that was best for the Empire; for their people. 

Why didn’t he send it? 

“Don’t even talk to it,” the sister says. “It’s just going to try and trick us.” 

< Gonna be kind of hard to trick all of us at once, > the brother says, cocking his head. < Hey, Lee, can you hear us? Super sorry about this, man. >

“This is my fault,” the leader says, looking upset. “I didn’t get him out of the pool fast enough.” 

“Lee’s the one who didn’t morph when you told him to,” the youngest female says. 

“It’s nobody’s fault,” the brother’s mate says. “And we’re fixing it, either way.” 

Zuko feels a hunger pang and tries not to let anything show on his host’s face. It’s a little bit of pain, but only a little one. He can handle it. 

“I’m going to kill you for this,” his host says flatly. 

< You will not have the chance, Yeerk, > the Andalite retorts coldly. Zuko’s host laughs. 

“Please,” he says. “None of you could tell the difference between a Yeerk and a host if you _tried_ , and you think you’re scary? You don’t know _anything_ about this stupid war.” 

< Maybe, but who’s the one tied to a chair right now, dude? > the brother says. < Seems like Animorphs: one, brainslugs: zero. >

“I’m not going to tell you anything,” Zuko says firmly before his host can get them in any more trouble. Well—get him in any more trouble. All his host will have to do to survive this is pretend like he was never a Controller at all. 

< Yeah, tell that to Azula Eight Nine Five. >

< . . . point. You’re going to have to hide. >

< I am _not_ moving in with the Andalite. And I’m not _going_ to have to hide, anyway, because you’re _not dying_. >

< I appreciate the optimism, > Zuko says. 

“What’s your name?” the leader says, and Zuko . . . blinks. 

“Why would you care about _that_?” he asks. The leader looks uncomfortable, and a few of the other humans are giving him odd looks. The Andalite’s attention is all on Zuko’s host, though, unsurprisingly. It’s clearly waiting for an excuse to attack. 

“I mean . . . you have one, right?” the leader says. “Yeerks have names?” 

“Of _course_ we have names,” Zuko says, almost offended by the way he asks. “We’re _people_.” 

“You’re monsters,” the sister says. 

“You guys just boiled a pool of people who were at your mercy alive,” Zuko’s host says. The leader flinches. “You really wanna start throwing stones?” 

“You’re _monsters_ ,” the sister repeats angrily. “Every Yeerk in that pool was going to take over an innocent person.” 

“I mean, you’re assuming humans are innocent,” Zuko’s host says, and she glares at him. 

“Who would actually _deserve_ something like that?” she demands. 

“I dunno, I can think of a few people,” Zuko’s host says. 

“You—!” 

“Katara,” the leader says, putting his hand on her shoulder. She’s still furious, eyes bright and wet, but whips around and turns her back to them. 

“He’s not going to tell us anything,” she bites off harshly. “He just wants to play mind games and tell lies.” 

< Yes, that sounds like a Yeerk, > the Andalite says. Zuko glares at him. 

He’s hungry. 

He’s going to die. There’s nothing he can even do about it. Nothing but talk, and he’s not going to do that. He’s failed his people badly enough as it is. 

“Just leave me alone,” he says, turning his host’s head away from the humans and setting its jaw. They don’t care what his name is. They don’t want to hear anything that doesn’t line up with Andalite propaganda. 

And they’re going to kill him no matter what he says. 

“Okay,” the leader says quietly. 

“Aang, come on, how many chances are we going to get to question a Yeerk?” the brother’s mate says. 

“I don’t want to question him,” the leader says, then looks at Zuko’s host again. “You should just come out. It’ll be . . . quicker.” 

“Fuck you,” his host says, baring its teeth at him. “What, so you’ll feel _better_ about it?” 

“That’s not . . .” 

“That _is_.” 

Zuko really needs to stop letting his host talk so much, but he’s . . . distracted. 

He’s hungry. Not very hungry, but hungry enough to notice. Usually he only feels hungry in the pool, because Azula Eight Nine Five times their visits so perfectly. 

He’s going to get a lot more hungry than this. 

.

.

.

The Yeerk, whoever they are, stops talking. Sokka isn’t really sure what to do. Katara’s angry, Suki’s frustrated, Toph’s bored, Aang’s upset, Lu Ten is murderous, and Lee . . . 

Who knows how Lee’s feeling right now. 

Well, the Yeerk, obviously. But definitely nobody else. 

< So here’s a problem I didn’t think of, > Sokka says as they step outside of the shack, allegedly to get some air but more like to get away from the evil brainslug currently taking up residence in their buddy. < What are we gonna _eat_ out here? Unless, like, we’re sympathy-starving with the evil brainslug, which I really hope we are not doing. >

“How can you think about food at a time like this?” Katara says in disgust. 

< Easy, ‘cuz I don’t wanna sympathy-starve with the evil brainslug. >

“Sokka’s right, we need to get food if we’re going to be out here for three days,” Aang says. “We can’t be seen in town if we’re supposed to be lost in the forest.” 

“I can get you food, dummy,” Toph says. “My parents were a definite no-go on the camping. Actually they tried to ground me for being out after curfew again, so I kiiiinda had to sneak out to get back here.” 

< No offense, but if you have to worry about your parents grounding you, is that really the best option? > Sokka asks. 

“What, you wanna send Lu Ten?” she snorts. 

< That is a valid counterargument. >

“Oh—Lu Ten, your arm,” Katara says in distress, clearly reminded of his injuries, which to be fair they probably shouldn’t have forgotten about in the first place. That delicate Andalite arm is looking pretty messed up. 

< It is fine, > Lu Ten says. < I need only morph. >

“You should,” Aang says. “Lee’s tied up, the Yeerk’s not going anywhere.” 

< Yes, Prince Aang, > Lu Ten says, and his face starts to melt. It is super-gross to watch, so Sokka doesn’t. 

< You guys need sleeping bags and stuff too, > he says. < And maybe, like, a space heater. It’s been getting really cold at night and you guys don’t have fur. >

“That’s right,” Suki says with a grimace, rubbing her arms. “That was dumb of me, I should’ve thought of that.” 

< You thought of the plan, you did enough, babe, > Sokka says breezily. < Leave the details to me, I am _great_ with the details. >

“What is a space heater?” Lu Ten says, looking at least human- _ish_ by now, if still kinda blue-tinged. “Turrrrr.” 

“It’s a machine. It’ll keep the shack warm,” Suki says. “Lee’s already tied up, we might as well make sure he doesn’t freeze. Unless Yeerks freeze. Do Yeerks freeze?” 

“Yes,” Lu Ten says. “Essss. But I believe humans would also freeze at those temperatures. Tures. Tuuuuures.” 

“Guess that was too much to hope for,” Suki sighs, shaking her head. “Okay. So we need food and sleeping bags, and a space heater—at the least. Anything else?” 

< I mean, water, > Sokka says. That one’s pretty important. < Maybe a flashlight or two. Also something to _do_ , because three days of this sounds boring as _heck_. >

“And clothes,” Toph says. “It’s gonna look kinda weird if you guys turn up on Monday in your morphing outfits. Which, for the record, should not be the thing the _blind_ girl thinks of.” 

“Oh, yeah,” Aang says with a wince. 

“I’ve got those spare outfits you guys left in the barn for emergencies,” Katara says. “And Gran-Gran won’t mind if we raid the pantry.” 

“You still have to ask her if you can go camping, right?” Aang asks. 

“Oh—yeah, I do,” Katara realizes distractedly, looking back in the direction of the barn. “I forgot all about it. What time is it?” 

“Seven-thirty-seven PM,” Lu Ten says. “Irty. Give or take a few seconds. Secondssssss.” 

< Yeah, you definitely need to go ask her, > Sokka says, scratching behind his ear with a paw. Gran-Gran’s usually pretty lenient about that stuff, as long as she knows where Katara’s going, but . . . < It’s already pretty dark. >

“I’ll go ask her,” Katara says, then hesitates. “You guys will be alright without me, right?” 

“ _We’re_ not the ones who got tricked,” Toph says, as eternally the least sensitive member of the group. Katara flushes in embarrassment, then scowls at her. 

“Didn’t you say your parents said you were grounded?” she says. 

“I said they _tried_ to ground me,” Toph corrects. Katara huffs, turning her back on her to head for the barn. Sokka considers following her, since “we’re gonna have Suki’s big scary dog with us” might help convince Gran-Gran, but . . . 

He paws at his nose, a little distressed, and then looks into the shack. The Yeerk’s just sitting there in Lee’s body, but his eyes aren’t quite focused, and he smells like . . . well . . . 

He smells like _pain_ , mostly. Sokka considers mentioning that, but if the Yeerk already smells like pain this early in the process, he really doesn’t want Aang to know it. That seems like it is gonna involve a _lot_ of pain. 

Although, this does seem really early for it. Are Yeerks just always walking around hurting? Because he’s gotta say, he doesn’t remember smelling pain on any other Controllers except for the ones they were killing, although it would definitely explain some things. 

< Hey, was there actually a Kandrona in that pool? > he thinks to ask, and Aang blinks down at him, looking puzzled. 

“I don’t know,” he says. 

< Huh. > Sokka keeps looking at Lee, or the Yeerk, or whoever he’s actually looking at right now. He really does smell like he’s hurting, and he doesn’t look so great either. Maybe the Yeerk got hurt when the others turned the Jacuzzi on, and that’s it? 

Lee didn’t smell like he was in pain _earlier_ , though. 

“Sokka?” Aang’s frowning at him. “Is something wrong?” 

< Naw, > Sokka says, because a Yeerk being in pain is kind of their whole _goal_ here. He stands up and pads into the shack. Lee’s eyes track him, but only belatedly. Sokka leans in and sniffs at him. 

Yeah. Definitely pain. 

He really hopes Lee can’t feel that. 

< Did you actually get enough Kandrona in there to _make_ it three days? > he asks, scratching behind his ear again. < ‘Cuz you smell like you’re hurting pretty bad. >

“Go away,” the Yeerk says. Sokka wonders what his name is. He wouldn’t have thought to before Aang asked, but . . . yeah, he’s wondering now. 

< Is Lee gonna feel this? > he asks, turning to look at Lu Ten, who’s still outside. < Like, is this gonna hurt him? >

“The host is entirely unharmed by this process,” Lu Ten says. “Processsss. Cess.” 

< Well, small favors, I guess, > Sokka says. Another good reason to tie Lee up, really: who knows what the Yeerk might do to his body if he gets desperate. He doesn’t know if Yeerks are the “if I’m going down, I’m taking you with me” type, but they definitely _strike_ him as that type. Like, that seems like a very Yeerk-ish sentiment. < Hear that, Lee? You’re gonna be fine, man. >

“I’m going to kill you,” the Yeerk says. Sokka pushes his nose against the inside of Lee’s elbow. He still smells like pain, even if it’s not actually his own pain. The Yeerk stiffens, baring his teeth. 

< That’s an awful lot of bravado coming from a guy with less than three days to live, > Sokka says. < Apparently way less. >

The Yeerk tries to kick him. It’s a pretty easy dodge. 

“Sokka?” Aang says, leaning into the shack. 

< I think the Yeerk’s already pretty hungry, > Sokka says, leaning against Lee’s side. Maybe the other can feel it, and it’ll help. < Lee smells like he’s in pain. >

“Oh,” Aang says with a weird look on his face. 

“What, don’t like watching?” the Yeerk asks with a nasty smirk. He tries to kick Sokka again. Sokka hops out of the way. He was kind of expecting it. 

< Whoa, hey, trying to take over the world is one thing, but who kicks a _dog_? > he says. < Wow, rude. >

“Very funny,” the Yeerk says, giving him a dirty look. Sokka wonders what his name is again. Maybe Lee will be able to tell them once he’s free. 

He wonders if Yeerks think _anything_ is funny. 

< See, that’s how I _know_ you’re a brainslug, Lee would totally appreciate my jokes, > he says primly. The Yeerk rolls Lee’s eyes, then glares at him. < What, come on, I’m sure he’s cracking up in there. >

“Is this seriously how you’re spending the night? Taunting the Yeerk?” Toph says dubiously from the doorway. 

< I mean, what else are we gonna do? > Sokka says. It’s kind of dumb, maybe, but he can’t help feeling like they should be keeping the Yeerk distracted. Partially because then it can’t be making escape plans, but partially . . . 

He just doesn’t want to know what kind of awful stuff it’d be saying to Lee otherwise, he guesses. 

“I really am going to kill you,” the Yeerk says. 

< Yeah, good luck with that, > Sokka says. 

.

.

.

Zuko’s hungry, and the humans won’t shut up. The Andalite at least isn’t interested in talking, but the sister’s back, and the humans just keep _bothering_ him. 

Bothering his host, more like. Zuko’s having a little too much trouble concentrating to hold a proper conversation right now. 

He’s just _so_ hungry. Hungrier than he’s maybe ever been. It’s hard to think about anything else. Hard to control his host, hard to focus on what the humans are saying, hard to _breathe_. All he can think about is how badly he needs Kandrona rays. 

He’s dying. 

< You’re not dying, > his host says fiercely. 

< I am, > Zuko says. He knows a hopeless situation when he sees it. The humans aren’t leaving them alone; there’s no chance of escape. Even if they _did_ escape, they’d have to get out of the woods and get to a pool without getting caught, and the more time passes the less chance they have of managing that. He’s not even sure he remembers the way back to town at this point. 

< You’re _not_ , > his host says. 

< It’s alright, host, > Zuko says. He deserves this, really. He underestimated the humans; got sloppy around the Andalite. < When this is over— >

< It’s _not_ over! > his host says. < Don’t be such a _Yeerk_ about it! We’ve still got time! >

< Not very much, > Zuko says. The humans are talking to them again. He can’t really follow what they’re saying anymore. < When this is over— >

< When this is over I’m going straight to Azula Eight Nine Five, > his host hisses. 

< She’s going to be angry, > Zuko says. 

< _I’m_ angry! >

< We helped fight the Empire, > Zuko says. < They won’t kill you, but . . . >

< I don’t care, > his host says. < You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me. They’re going to _hurt_ for this. >

< It’s a war, > Zuko says, blue-green grass and wide open fields in his mind. He’s never had a host say anything like that to him before, even though it’s not the first time his host has said it. He still doesn’t really know what to think of it. < This kind of thing happens. >

< Don’t _defend_ them! > his host snaps. 

Is that what he’s doing? He didn’t think that was what he was doing. 

Just . . . 

< It’s fine, > he says. < If you go to Azula Eight Nine Five, she’ll give you to another Yeerk. And Jee Five Three Three will still be in your father. You’ll be safe. >

< _They’re_ not going to be, > his host says darkly. < I want them to never feel safe again. >

< Host . . . > Zuko struggles, and trails off. He’s not sure what he wants to say, and the Andalite’s memories are strange and insistent, rising to the surface and making it even harder to think. They’re more specific than usual, for some reason, and he remembers . . . he remembers strange things, now. Things that don’t make sense. 

He might be hallucinating, he realizes. 

< We should’ve sold them out to Ozai Three the first night, > his host says. 

< Well, we didn’t, > Zuko says tiredly. He’s so hungry. Have any of these soft, soft children ever felt truly hungry? Do they know what they’re doing to him right now? 

They wouldn’t care, obviously, but do they _know_? 

< This is my fault, > his host says again. 

< This is Iroh’s fault, > Zuko says, remembering too many things that don’t add up and— < Mother _Sky_ , this hurts. >

< They’re going to be sorry for this, > his host says, tensing against his mind. Zuko can feel its rage; its desire to strike out. It wants to attack. It wants to _fight_. Like it always has. 

Prince Iroh, the famed and fearless Andalite warrior, died wanting to go home. 

But he wasn’t only thinking about the Andalite’s home planet when he was thinking of “home”, was he. 

That’s . . . strange, Zuko thinks. There’s something there, something strange and off, and . . . 

He’s hallucinating, definitely. He closes his host’s eyes, and tries to ignore the pain. It’s a full-body ache and a sharp stabbing feeling all at once, and so hard to think past. His host’s anger is something to concentrate on, at least, and he holds onto that. It’s a pure, vicious thing, and it’s . . . something. 

Anger’s gotten his host through a lot. Maybe it’ll get him through this. 

“You think he’s faking?” one of the humans asks. He doesn’t even know which one anymore, or what they’re talking about. Maybe the youngest female? Maybe? 

< He still smells like he’s hurting, so not really, > the brother says. 

Oh. They’re talking about him. 

“Maybe Yeerks can just do that,” another one of the humans says. The brother’s mate, Zuko thinks. He opens his host’s eyes and watches them dully, not fully processing what they’re saying. 

“Maybe,” the leader says. He reaches out and puts a hand on Zuko’s host’s shoulder and squeezes, the gesture strange and inexplicable. Zuko can’t really react anyway, but his host bares its teeth. Zuko’s exhaustion is overtaking its body, but not completely. 

He never has been able to control this host completely. 

“Go away,” he says listlessly. 

“We’re not here for _you_ ,” the sister says. 

Zuko doesn’t know how he feels about the fact that they’re trying to be there for his host when the one they’ve actually been fighting beside all this time is, well . . . _him_. Both of them, really, but he’s been the one doing most of the talking. He’s been the one making most of the choices. He’s been the one who . . . 

The stupid one, mostly. That’s what he’s been. 

< They’re the stupid ones, > his host says. < They don’t even _know_. >

“Not now, host,” Zuko says tiredly. He’s thinking about the last voluntary host he convinced to join the Empire, for some reason. That, and blue-green grass, and memories that don’t make sense. And . . . and _his_ last host, strangely. His first permanent one. 

He hasn’t seen his last host since that first night the humans attacked the pool. He wonders if it’s dead. Probably not; the humans were a lot worse at killing people to start. A stray Dracon beam might’ve hit it, though, so . . . 

So. 

Well, he’ll be dead too, soon enough. 

“Don’t _call_ him that!” the sister says angrily, and Zuko blinks at her. Call who—oh. He spoke to his host out loud, didn’t he. 

“It’s not your business,” he says, feeling strangely possessive. He’s going to die, yes, but his host is still his host right now. And he’ll always have been his host’s first Yeerk, so . . . so maybe his host will remember him, at least. He knows Azula Eight Nine Five and Jee Five Three Three won’t. 

Maybe Mai Six Two Four, but . . . 

No. There’s no reason for her to remember him anymore. 

< I’m not going to forget you, > his host says. < I’ll help them conquer this miserable excuse for a planet in your name. >

“He’s not _yours_!” the sister snaps. 

“My host is the only thing that’s mine,” Zuko says. He’s never owned anything but his hosts and whatever he’s been temporarily issued, and he never will. 

“You—!” The sister makes to strike him, but the leader holds her back. 

“Katara, that’s _Lee’s_ body!” he says. Zuko wonders why he’s not thinking of them by their names, even now. It’s much too late for him to keep his distance. 

It’s been too late for a long, long time. 

He closes his host’s eyes, because he’s tired. Because there’s nothing to look at, really, besides the humans and the Andalite and this awful little shack. No beautiful blue-green grass, no wide-open skies, no Mai Six Two Four, no . . . no anything, really. 

He really wishes he could see Mai Six Two Four one more time, for some reason. Even in a human body, he wishes he could see her. 

Stupid thing to wish. But he’s always been stupid, hasn’t he. A smarter Yeerk wouldn’t be here. A smarter Yeerk wouldn’t have been swayed by a dead Andalite’s memories. 

A smarter Yeerk would’ve remembered who his enemies were, and where his loyalty belonged, and . . . and . . . 

Father Deep, he’s so _hungry_. 

.

.

.

Zuko Five Three Three is going in and out, and very quiet. He’s only barely holding onto control of their body. 

Lee is _so_ angry. He’s going to kill them. He’s going to tell the Yeerks who they are. He’s going to make them _suffer_. 

He meant it. Zuko is the best thing that’s ever happened to him. Zuko’s the reason he can go home at night and not be afraid, Zuko’s why his father will never touch him again, Zuko’s the one who gave him a _purpose_ and things to _fight_ for. Lee’s never cared about anything as much as Zuko cares about his people. Lee’s never cared about any _one_ as much as he cares about _Zuko_. 

This is his fault. He should’ve let Zuko tell on them the first night in the pool, not gotten so excited over a cheap excuse for a fight. Should’ve helped Zuko fight back against Iroh’s weird invasive memories and left Lu Ten to the mercy of Ozai Three and never, ever, _ever_ have thought it was fun playing at being an “Andalite bandit”. Shouldn’t have played at making friends with the others. 

Should’ve killed Lu Ten in the forest, and gotten them _away_. 

“Lee,” Katara says in a tender, terrible voice that Lee wants to rip right out of her throat. “Can you hear us? He’s getting weaker. You’ll be okay.” 

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Lee spits. 

“Shut up, Yeerk,” she says, and he laughs at her. They keep _doing_ that—thinking he’s the Yeerk, the stranger, the invader. Like he didn’t lay out the red carpet and _invite_ Zuko in. Like they’ve ever spoken to him this long before, _ever_ ; like they’d actually recognize him. 

They don’t recognize him. They don’t know him at all. 

< Host, > Zuko murmurs quietly, and Lee ignores Katara in favor of turning his attention inwards. Zuko’s voice is so quiet he can barely hear it, and Lee can’t actually _feel_ his pain but he can tell it’s _there_ , and it’s awful. < They won’t let you leave if you’re angry. >

< I’ll make them let me, > Lee says, tensing his muscles against the give of the rope around them. They’ll untie him, eventually, and that’ll be the last mistake they ever make. 

< Host . . . > Zuko says, then seems to lose track of what he’s saying. Lee wants to do something for him, make it better, _fix_ it, but he’s helpless. Helpless just like he used to always be, and all because of these _idiots_ who can’t tell a Yeerk from a human. 

This might be the last thing Zuko ever says to him. This might be the last time they ever talk. 

This might be the worst day of his life, even worse than when his mother left, because at least that he didn’t have to _watch_. 

< Zuko, > he says. He feels the other’s attention on him, but Zuko doesn’t say anything. He’s in _so_ much pain. < Zuko, I won’t forgive them for this. >

< Do you remember the grass? > Zuko murmurs. < It was so pretty. >

< I remember, > Lee says tightly, clenching their fists. Katara puts a hand over the back of one of them, soft and soothing. He _hates_ her. 

< Andalites are so . . . so lucky, > Zuko says distantly, looking past Katara’s shoulder. The door of the shack’s ajar, and they can see a little bit of the outside; green grass and clustered trees. Zuko’s trying to focus on that instead of the pain, and it’s killing Lee to watch. < So selfish. They’d leave us in the mud and be glad. >

< They can go to hell, > Lee says. He thinks he’s going to cry. He hasn’t cried in _years_ , but he thinks he’s going to. 

< I’m tired, > Zuko says. 

< It’s okay, > Lee says, even though it’s not. 

Katara squeezes their hand. Zuko grips it. Lee doesn’t want to, but he’ll let Zuko have any tiny bit of comfort he can, even if it’s from one of the people who are killing him. 

“Lee?” she asks softly, brushing their hair back off their face. “Can you hear me?” 

“I _hate_ you,” Lee hisses at her. Zuko keeps holding her hand. Her eyes harden, but her hand stays soft. 

“You deserve this. Crushing people down, forcing them to obey you—this is the _least_ you deserve,” she says. Zuko’s never _done_ that, Lee wants to tell her, but he knows she won’t believe him. Zuko’s pain is making their breathing shallow, and Lee wants to hurt her so, so badly. 

He keeps letting Zuko hold her hand, because it’s the only thing he can do. The only small, pathetic comfort he can offer. Because he was weak, because he was irresponsible, because he didn’t recognize that this was so, so dangerous and serious until it was too late. 

If he’d known it’d get Zuko killed, he’d never have done any of it. 

< Host, > Zuko says. Lee stiffens. This time? Is this the last time? 

< Zuko, > he says. < What is it? >

< Nothing, > Zuko murmurs. < It’s—nothing. >

He’s scared. That’s what it is. 

< I’m here, > Lee says. < I’m with you. >

< I know, > Zuko says. He doesn’t relax, exactly, but his mind softens against Lee’s. Lee wants to wrap him up like he’s the Yeerk, like he could protect him, like he could do _anything_ right now. He tries to, and Zuko sinks into him. It’s hard to tell the difference between them anymore. He’s seeing even more of Zuko’s thoughts than usual, and they’re all sad and terrible and _unfair_. He’s seeing bits and pieces of other hosts Zuko’s had, and of Prince Iroh, and of—he’s not sure, exactly. 

Zuko’s only ever had one human host, so who’s this other human he’s remembering? That’s—

No, Lee realizes. It’s Iroh’s memories. Memories of _being_ human. 

When . . . ?

Zuko curls up tighter in their mind, and Lee immediately forgets everything else he was thinking. 

< Zuko, > he says. 

< Mm, > Zuko says. 

< I’m here, > Lee says again, because that’s all he has. < I’m here, okay, I’m here. Please don’t die. >

< You’re a good host, > Zuko says, and Lee’s chest tightens. Zuko’s the only one who’s ever thought he was good for _anything_ , and Zuko knows him from the inside out. He can’t imagine letting some other Yeerk take his place. Can’t imagine letting _anyone_ take his place. 

< Zuko, _please_ — > he says, and he knows begging is useless but he says it all the same. How is he supposed to pretend to be okay after this? How is he _ever_ supposed to be okay after this? Watching someone die from the inside, watching someone so _important_ die when there’s nothing he can do, no help he can offer, not even mercy or . . . or . . . 

Zuko isn’t hurting anymore. It’s all too much for it to hurt anymore. 

Lee’s going to _scream_. 

< Zuko, > he says. < Zuko, Zuko, Zuko, don’t _leave me_ — >

He can’t do this alone. 

“Lee,” Aang says quietly. Katara squeezes their hand. Lee doesn’t look at them. Zuko wants to see grass and sky and that thin sliver of freedom that they just can’t reach. Zuko wants someone to hold their hand. Zuko wants—

Zuko wants—

< It’s okay, > Zuko says, and then nothing else. He’s thinking about the pool, now; the sludge and shine of it. He’s thinking about what it feels like to leave that sludge, and rise above it as something strange and wonderful. A Gedd, a Hork-Bajir. 

A human. 

Lee wants to die. He wants to take Zuko’s place. He wants to be the Yeerk, he wants Zuko to be the human, he wants, he wants, he _wants_. Katara wraps her arms around them and holds on tight and he hates her so _much_ , hates her even more than he thought he could ever hate someone. 

Lee’s always hated the way it feels as Zuko leaves him, and this time it is so, so much worse. 

< Zuko, > he says, but there’s no answer. < _Zuko_. >

He doesn’t think Zuko can hear him anymore. He doesn’t know if Zuko can even _feel_ him anymore. He tries to think of good things, because if Zuko _can_ feel him he doesn’t want him to die buried in how awful this feels, but it’s so, so hard. He thinks about the first time Zuko was in his head, how it felt, the way the other took over and took control so carefully, the way he felt their body out. He thinks about how it will never be their body again. 

Zuko . . . Zuko’s thinking about grass, and the way it feels to morph, the way it feels to rise above the sludge and past the limits of one’s own body, the way . . . the way . . . 

Their face is wet. Lee can’t tell if he’s crying more from fury or grief. Katara’s hands are wiping the tears away and Aang’s hand is on their arm. They’re waiting for the worst thing that’s ever happened to him to finish happening, and they think it’s a _good_ thing. 

No. He has no idea how he’s supposed to pretend to be okay after this. 

He can’t _imagine_ being okay after this. 

He sobs. Aang rubs their arm and Katara holds them tight and murmurs something soothing that soothes _nothing_ in him. It’s not fair. It’s not _fair_. 

Zuko makes a sound like a sigh, and Lee feels him fall far, far away. Something pushes inside his ear, squirms or thrashes, and then Zuko’s body falls out of his head and lands on the floor, a pale gray slug only five or six inches long, small and defenseless and _dying_. Lee stares down at him in horror, and Katara pushes his hair back off his face again. 

“It’s okay,” she says. “It’s over.” 

It’s over, yes, but Lee cannot even begin to explain how not okay it is. 

“Get off me,” he says roughly, because he can’t say anything else. There’s no way to lie, no way to pretend; all he can do is stare at Zuko’s twitching, bloated corpse and say what he’s feeling. 

Zuko died thinking about being human. Thinking about being _them_. 

“Okay,” Katara says, and lets go of him. She probably thinks he needs space. Probably thinks he’s embarrassed, or upset, or some stupid, shallow thing that doesn’t matter. 

< Ugh, > Sokka says. < Gross. >

“Untie me,” Lee says, feeling strangely calm. Zuko’s body is just laying there. 

“Oh—we’ve got you, hang on,” Aang says, and he and Katara start tugging at the knots. Lee keeps looking at Zuko’s body on the floor. It looks _wrong_ , discolored and still and slowly swelling up, and he doesn’t know what to do about it. All he can think about is what Zuko died thinking, and how it’s all his fault, and how fast he can get to Azula Eight Nine Five and tell her the names and addresses and biggest vulnerabilities of every single one of these miserable bastards. 

“There,” Katara says, and the ropes fall away. Lee feels that, distantly, but can’t stop looking at Zuko. Lu Ten steps forward. 

< Something’s wrong, > he says. Zuko’s body swells a little bigger. Lee watches. 

“Wrong?” Aang asks. 

< It isn’t dead, > Lu Ten says, and his tail blade flashes. Lee does the instinctive thing, which is the stupid one, and throws himself over Zuko’s body. Lu Ten pulls his strike, but the tip of his tail blade still sinks into his ribs. Lee doesn’t scream, because he’s used to pain, and if he didn’t scream with grief for Zuko he won’t give Lu Ten the satisfaction of doing it now. 

It hurts a _lot_ , though. 

Stupid, he thinks hazily past the pain. He deserves the pain, though. 

“Lee!” the others shout, and Katara grabs him again and Aang jumps between him and Lu Ten, but the only thing he’s looking at is Zuko. Zuko, who’s not swelling. 

Zuko who’s _growing_. Slowly, so, so slowly, but . . . 

Zuko was in his head from the beginning, he thinks distantly. Zuko was always there, through all of it. 

Zuko was in his head when Iroh gave them the morphing power. 

He’s distantly aware of Katara pressing something to his wounded side and telling him to morph, but it doesn’t matter. It’s not important. The only thing that matters is . . . 

< What the _hell_?! > Sokka yelps. 

“What? What’s happening?!” Toph demands. 

“Oh my God!” Suki shrieks, and Lee watches Zuko underneath him grow, and change color, and stretch out, and . . . 

And then he’s looking at himself. Unconscious, limp, motionless—but himself. 

Their body. 

< It _morphed_ , > Lu Ten says in disbelief. < How did it _morph_?! >

“Zuko,” Lee says frantically, because maybe it’s too little too late, maybe it wasn’t enough, “Zuko, wake up, look at me, _Zuko_.” 

“Host?” Zuko mumbles thickly, and his eyes slit open. Lee could _cry_. 

_“Zuko,”_ he says again, and throws himself at him. Zuko grunts at the impact, then gasps. 

“What—” he says in confusion, and the others are all yelling at each other, but Lee doesn’t give a damn what they’re saying. None of it matters. He clings to Zuko’s body— _their_ body—and holds on as tight as he can and bleeds all over him. Zuko’s hands fumble against his back, like he’s not sure how to use them right without him in the way. Lee just holds on tighter. 

“What. The. _Hell_ ,” Katara says. 

.

.

.

Zuko isn’t dead, which is confusing. He’s pretty sure he _was_ dead, he was prepared to _be_ dead, he was definitely out of time, but . . . but he’s not sure. He was remembering things, important things, things he was never going to feel again, and then . . . 

And then he could think again, and what he’s thinking is: what the _hell_? 

There’s somebody wrapped around them, and . . . 

< Host? > he tries, but there’s no answer, and he can’t feel the other in his head at all, which is _impossible_ because he can tell he’s in his host, he can _feel_ it, he can—he can—

Wait. Are they _naked_? 

“Zuko,” a strange voice says, and the body wrapped around their body leans back and is . . . 

Zuko . . . blinks. He puts a hand on the body’s face. 

That’s his host. 

How . . . ? 

< Uh, Lee? Why are you hugging the evil garden pest? > the brother asks. Zuko turns their head— _his_ head—a little too abruptly, and stares at him. The brother stares back, cocking his own head. < Okay, wow, creepy. Anybody got an industrial-sized salt shaker? >

“Not funny!” Zuko’s host hisses, because it _is_ Zuko’s host. Just . . . Zuko’s not in it, for some reason. 

< Lee, dude. That is a _Yeerk_ , > the brother says. 

“He’s Zuko Five Three Three,” Zuko’s host says. The humans all _stare_ at it. The Andalite, however . . . 

< How did you do that? > the Andalite demands, stepping forward with its tail blade cocked threateningly. 

“Um,” Zuko says, slowly. Normally he wouldn’t answer an Andalite’s questions on principle, but in this case . . . “Do . . . what?” 

“You morphed,” his host says. “Into me.” 

“I _what_?!” Zuko hisses. Yeerks don’t morph! How _could_ a Yeerk morph, the Andalites are so greedy and possessive of their technology, they’d _never_ share it—

Iroh did, he remembers. 

And he was in Lee when Iroh did it. 

Zuko feels faint, and sits back. There’s blood all down his host’s side and the sister is holding a shirt soaked in even more of it, but his host doesn’t seem to care. It never has cared about that kind of thing, though; that’s always been Zuko’s job. 

“You’re bleeding,” he says, stupidly. 

“You’re _alive_ ,” his host says. 

“Yes, but _you’re bleeding_ ,” Zuko repeats. 

“I’ll morph,” his host says, though it doesn’t. It’s just staring at him, looking at him like he’s the greatest thing in the world. Zuko is too overwhelmed and confused to really understand why. 

He’s alive. 

For the moment, anyway, he remembers, _his_ eyes sliding towards the Andalite, who is still standing right there ready to strike. He’s pretty sure it only hasn’t because it’s just as confused as he is. 

“How did you do that?!” the sister demands. “That’s impossible!” 

“You are all _really_ stupid,” Zuko’s host says. “How do you think he did it?” 

< Oh man, > the brother says. His mate is staring at Zuko’s host. < _Oh_ man. >

“What?!” the youngest female demands, clutching at the brother’s ruff. “What’s happening? The Yeerk seriously can _morph_? How does _that_ work?!” 

< Well, I’m going out on a limb here, but I’m gonna say “because Iroh”, same as us, > the brother says slowly. < Like. Exactly the same as us. >

“He was in the Sharing,” the brother’s mate says, closing her eyes in disbelief. “He was in the Sharing the whole _time_.” 

< You think my father gave the morphing power to a _Controller_?! > the Andalite demands. < He would never! >

“How would he have _known_?” the brother’s mate says. “We didn’t.” 

“A _voluntary_ Controller,” the sister says, staring at Zuko’s host. Zuko supposes it wasn’t very subtle about it. His host sets its jaw and glares back at her. 

“That’s right,” it says. 

“Are you _crazy_?!” she demands. “They’re monsters!” 

“No, they’re not,” Zuko’s host says, reaching over and grabbing one of Zuko’s hands. There’s no sense of distance there, like with a normal host. Zuko’s not _in_ a host, so he supposes that makes sense. He’s having trouble reconciling the feeling. “Zuko takes care of me. And I take care of him.” 

“You _are_ crazy!” the sister says in horror. 

< This is _wild_ , > the brother says, padding over and sniffing at them. Zuko’s host glowers at it. < Okay, so why aren’t we _all_ Controllers? >

“What kind of question is _that_?” the youngest female says. 

< A super-relevant one, I’m thinking, > the brother says. < If Zuko was Lee from the start, why’d he run at the construction site? >

“Because you dragged us,” Zuko says. “We were—disoriented.” 

< Okay. > The brother cocks his head, squinting at him. < And the reason you saved Katara at the pool after that? And helped us save Lu Ten? And, like, _every_ time you’ve helped us? >

“It was the Andalite’s fault,” Zuko says. 

< . . . the _dead_ guy made you help us, > the brother says dubiously. Zuko’s face goes hot. 

< I’m going to kill it now, > the Andalite says. Zuko’s host stiffens, jerking between them. 

“No,” the leader says, speaking for the first time in . . . some time, certainly. Everyone gives him a disbelieving look, Zuko and his host included. The leader looks upset, and he’s clenching his fists. “Why did you really help us? They would’ve promoted you. They might’ve made you a Visser, even.” 

“Why did you kill noncombatants?” Zuko says. He never wanted to be a Visser. He just wanted to serve the Empire and take care of their people. Anything else he did . . . 

He doesn’t know why he ever did anything else. 

The leader’s face twists. He looks even more upset. 

“You didn’t give us any choice,” he says. 

“I told you not to _do_ it,” Zuko says. 

“No, not—” The leader struggles. “Not _you_ , the other Yeerks. They were going to hurt people.” 

“They don’t all _hurt_ people,” Zuko’s host says. 

“Yes they do!” the sister snaps. 

“Do I look hurt?!” Zuko’s host demands. 

“You’re _bleeding_!” 

“Yeah, thanks to _Lu Ten_ , not Zuko!” 

“ _Because_ of Zuko!” 

“That’s enough!” the leader yells, stepping between them. “Stop fighting!” 

“Aang, he’s a _traitor_ —” 

“She’s an _idiot_ —” 

“I said _stop_!” 

“Are you going to kill me?” Zuko says. 

“Yes,” the sister says immediately, and of course < Yes, > the Andalite says, barely a beat behind her. 

“I mean, probably,” the youngest female says. 

< Dunno, > the brother says, scratching his ear. His mate doesn’t say anything. 

“That’s not . . .” The leader trails off, just looking at Zuko, and then at his host. His host is bristling. “I don’t understand.” 

“We don’t care if you understand,” Zuko’s host says, although actually Zuko wouldn’t mind if they did. At least _someone_ would know what was going on, then. “If you wanna kill him, though, you have to go through me.” 

“Lee . . .” the leader says uneasily. “You’re our _friend_.” 

“No I’m not,” Zuko’s host says. “Zuko Five Three Three was your friend. You barely even know me.” 

“A _Yeerk_ is not our friend!” the sister spits. 

< I mean, apparently he is, > the brother says. < Go figure. >

“Why did you _help_ us?” the leader says. “With Kuzon, and Lu Ten, and the Z-space transponder . . .” 

“I didn’t,” Zuko says, even though it’s a ridiculous lie and all of them know it. But he’s not—he didn’t do that much. Messing with that bastard Zhao Two Four Six a bit, saving the stupid Andalite . . . those were things that would’ve happened anyway, with or without him there. He wasn’t the one suggesting any of it, and he didn’t do anything they wouldn’t have done without him. 

He didn’t. 

“Do you even _want_ to conquer Earth?” the leader says. 

“My people need hosts,” Zuko says. 

“But they’re hurting people,” the leader says. “They’re not taking voluntary hosts like Lee, they’re forcing it on people like my grandpa.” 

“I _know_ that,” Zuko says defensively. “You don’t understand what it’s like.” 

“What, _enslaving_ people?” the sister demands. 

“Being a Yeerk,” Zuko says. “You have this big beautiful planet with all this wonderful _life_ on it and you can see and interact with it all and go wherever you want and do whatever you like, and we live in _sludge_ , blind and weak and _useless_.” 

“Hey!” the youngest female says, making a face in his direction. 

“That doesn’t give you the right to hurt other people,” the leader says. 

“You’ve hurt plenty of people,” Zuko says. The leader grimaces. 

“We’re _defending_ ourselves!” the sister says. “We’re defending the _universe_!” 

“We’re just trying to _live_ ,” Zuko says. 

“No, you’re not!” the sister says. “You’re forcing people! Lee might be crazy enough not to mind you, but that doesn’t mean the whole planet’s fine with an alien moving into their brain!” 

“There are lots of voluntary hosts,” Zuko says, thinking guiltily of his host’s mate. She’s voluntary, technically, but . . . 

“Yeah? How many?” the sister says. “Compared to how many _aren’t_?” 

“I don’t . . .” Zuko trails off uncomfortably, and she glares at him. His host glares back at her. 

“Who cares? Humans are awful anyway,” it says. “All we do is hurt each other and mess up the planet. Yeerks aren’t any worse than us.” 

“I can’t believe you’d say that!” the sister says. 

“Lee . . .” the brother’s mate says, looking troubled. 

“What? Tell me I’m wrong,” Zuko’s host says. “What’re we doing with ourselves that even _remotely_ matters? At least the Yeerks are trying to be _better_.” 

< The Yeerks are trying to destroy your people, > the Andalite says. < How could you possibly side with your would-be enslavers? >

“The Yeerks treat me better than humans ever did,” Zuko’s host says. 

< That is maybe the worst thing I have ever heard, > the brother says frankly. 

“Oh my _God_ , Lee, what’s so bad about your life?” the youngest female says disbelievingly. “You live in a huge house, you’ve got a girlfriend who thinks you’re the greatest thing since sliced bread, and your dad lets you do whatever you want.” 

“Jee Five Three Three lets us do whatever we went,” Zuko’s host corrects. 

“Hold on, your dad’s a Controller too?” the brother’s mate says. “Wait, is Ty Lee—” 

“Azula Eight Nine Five is my superior officer,” Zuko says. “Jee Five Three Three is my subordinate.” 

“Oh my _God_ ,” the brother’s mate says as she covers her mouth with her hand, looking horrified. 

“It’s better,” Zuko’s host says. “Ty Lee and I are safe, Zuko and Azula can do their jobs, and my dad can’t do anything about any of it.” 

“‘Can’t’—your dad’s an involuntary Controller and you’re _okay_ with that?” the sister asks. 

“Yeah,” Zuko’s host says with a smirk. “It’s great.” 

“He interfered with my host’s usefulness,” Zuko says. “It was necessary to infest him.” 

“You’re crazy,” the sister says disbelievingly, shaking her head in denial. 

“What do you mean ‘interfered’?” the leader asks with a frown. Zuko glances at his host; it sets its jaw stubbornly. 

“He was a poor choice of superior,” he says. “He punished my host unnecessarily.” 

“You gave your own dad to a Yeerk because what, he _grounded_ you?” the sister demands, clearly appalled. 

“He was unfair to his subordinates,” Zuko says. 

“He means he used to beat my ass,” Zuko’s host says flatly, folding its arms. The humans balk; the Andalite looks confused. 

“He wasn’t—lying?” the sister says. She looks alarmed. 

“ _I_ wasn’t lying,” Zuko’s host says. “If Jee Five Three Three weren’t in him, he still would.” 

< I don’t understand, > the Andalite says. < “Beat”? >

“Yeah,” Zuko’s host says. “What, Andalites too perfect to do that?” 

< Is that normal? Humans do that? > the Andalite asks, looking alarmed. 

“That is _not_ normal,” the sister says. 

“It’s very normal,” Zuko’s host says. “Happens all the time. So yeah, I _did_ give my dad to a Yeerk, and I’d do it again.” 

“I mean, he has a point,” the youngest female says. 

“Toph!” the sister hisses. 

“What, I’m just saying,” she says with a shrug, holding up her hands. “I didn’t say _I’d_ do it. Though I bet Yeerks would’ve let me go camping, just gonna say.” 

_“Toph!”_

“We need to figure out what to do,” the leader says, and the humans and the Andalite all go quiet, and look at him. Well—most of the humans. 

“You give me my spare clothes and let us go, that’s what you do,” Zuko’s host says. “Or you murder us.” 

The leader flinches. The line of the brother’s mate’s mouth sours. 

“This is a _war_ ,” the sister says. “And we can’t trust you. What, we’re going to let you go running right to Ozai Three and rat us out?” 

“Ozai Three would kill us,” Zuko’s host says. “It’s been _weeks_ and we haven’t told him. He would definitely kill us.” 

“Would kill me,” Zuko amends. Probably by Kandrona starvation, just for irony’s sake. “My host would still be valuable.” 

“We don’t know that,” the sister says. 

“Ozai Three kills people for _talking_ at the wrong time,” the brother’s mate says. 

“Yeah, that is definitely a thing,” the youngest female agrees. “We could trap him in morph, I guess? Keep him from Yeerking around.” 

“That wouldn’t stop me from going to Ozai Three,” Zuko points out uneasily. He doesn’t like the idea of not being able to be . . . _himself_ , he supposes. Even if himself is blind and weak and trapped under the sludge, it’s still who he _is_. It’s so much better being in his host, yes, but that’s a _choice_. 

And if he’s human . . . 

Mai Six Two Four is still in a Hork-Bajir. 

That’s a stupid thing to be thinking about when his life is on the line, probably, but he’s thinking about it all the same. 

“You’d probably end up somebody’s host if you did, so I don’t see why not,” the youngest female says. “You know all sorts of useful stuff, right?” 

“Not really,” Zuko says. 

“Iroh showed you things he didn’t show the rest of us,” the leader says. 

“That wasn’t _useful_ ,” Zuko says. “That was a _problem_ , if anything.” 

“Maybe for you,” the sister says. 

“So what if it was?” Zuko says with a scowl. It feels strange, feeling his own face move like that. It feels strange having a _face_. He’s trying not to concentrate on it too much. “Ozai Three doesn’t care about anything like that.” 

“It would mean one less Yeerk,” the leader says uncomfortably. 

< So would killing him, > the Andalite says. 

< Both totally valid points, > the brother says. < Except, uh, another morpher would kinda come in handy in the whole war effort, just gonna put that out there. >

“He’s not on our _side_!” the sister says. 

< I mean, he’s not _not_ on our side, > the brother says. < He helped us more than once. So did Lee, probably. Hard to believe that was exclusively blameable on weird Andalite memories. >

“I’m not going to betray my people for you,” Zuko says. 

< Okay, so . . . what’ve you _been_ doing, then? >

“Just because we spied on Zhao Two Four Six—” 

< And stole from. >

“— _and stole from_ , doesn’t mean I’m on your side,” Zuko says. “He’s a bastard.” 

< Okaaaay. > The brother cocks his head. < So we all hate Zhao’s sluggy guts, that’s a good start. What are your feelings on, say, Ozai Three? He’s not exactly fair to his subordinates either, right? >

“He’s a _Visser_ ,” Zuko says. 

< Yeah, I’ve noticed. >

“Don’t bother, Sokka, he’s one of them,” the sister says in disgust. “He’d never _really_ help us.” 

< Forgive me, but I kinda feel like we could use every bit of help we can get, > the brother says. < And if we kill them we’re down _two_ Animorphs. >

“I’m _not_ an Animorph,” Zuko says. 

“Really? ‘Cuz you sure have been acting like one,” the youngest female says. Zuko bristles defensively. 

“That’s not—I was just doing my job!” he says. 

< In what _possible_ way was that your job, dude? > the brother asks. Zuko glares at him. His host squeezes his hand—really _his_ hand, which isn’t feeling any less strange. Zuko’s only ever been touched by other Yeerks before, which is not a thing he’d ever really thought about before. 

“I’m not one of you,” he says. 

“Yeah? How?” the youngest female asks. 

“Because I’d never have turned on the Jacuzzi,” he says. The leader . . . grimaces, and wraps his arms around himself. 

“We were protecting people,” he says. 

“You were _murdering_ people,” Zuko says. “It’s one thing in a fight, things happen in fights, but they didn’t even know we were _there_.” 

“Also we’ve killed an awful lot of hosts for people so worried about hosts,” his host puts in. 

“We didn’t have a choice,” the sister says. 

“You literally went and _found_ them,” his host says. “It’s not like you tripped over something and reacted in the moment, you went out of your way to get there.” 

“To protect people!” the sister says hotly. “For the sake of our entire _world_!” 

The leader is quiet. 

“You saved me,” he says after a long moment. “When I was in roach morph and the bug spray was killing me and the Controllers were catching up . . . you definitely saved me.” 

“Yeah,” Zuko’s host says. “And you paid that back by killing a few dozen people.” 

“We have to fight, Lee,” the brother’s mate says. “There’s no way to get out of it, unless we’d rather give up and die.” 

< We would not be allowed to die, > the Andalite says. < We would be hosts for the rest of our lives. >

“. . . was that you, the first night?” the leader asks. “Before the pool. One of you said ‘live free or die’. You meant that, right?” 

“Yes,” Zuko says. 

“And you meant it because . . .” 

“My people aren’t free,” Zuko says. “We live in sludge and misery and helplessness without hosts.” 

“So you were gonna sell us out down there,” the leader says. “But you didn’t. You saved Katara, and you helped Sokka get away and hide.” 

“The Andalite’s memories interfered,” Zuko says. “And my host wanted to fight.” 

“You could’ve fought _us_ , though,” the leader says. “But you didn’t.” 

“So what?” Zuko’s host says. 

“I just don’t understand,” the leader says. 

“We don’t care if you understand,” Zuko’s host says. Zuko tries to figure out how to explain it, but he really can’t explain it. The sight of the sister being dragged along by a Controller so much bigger and stronger than her, the brother pinned down in a corner, the leader twitching and dying in roach morph . . . 

He can’t explain it, but he couldn’t leave them to die. 

They couldn’t, more accurately. 

“Maybe we _should_ trap Zuko in morph,” the leader says uneasily. 

“I don’t want to be a human,” Zuko says. 

“Well, maybe you should’ve thought about that before you moved into one, Slimer,” the youngest female snorts. Zuko grimaces. It’s not _like_ that. 

“He needs to demorph,” Zuko’s host says. “I can’t go home without him in my head. What am I gonna do, tell Azula he’s dead? She’s gonna give me _another_ Yeerk then, and they’re gonna wanna know what happened.” 

“And then we’re in real trouble,” the brother’s mate sighs. “Maybe you could just . . . not go back?” 

< Yeahhhh, the whole “just leave ‘em in a meadow” plan is probably not so great for the humans, > the brother says. < I dunno how long we could keep two Lees hidden. I dunno how long we could keep _one_ Lee hidden, planning for the weekend was hard enough. And that would put a _serious_ crimp in them being, you know, at all useful. >

“I am not living in the woods with a freaking Andalite,” Zuko’s host says. 

< What, you’d rather die? > the brother snorts. 

“Maybe!” 

“My host would _not_ rather die,” Zuko says, before his host can go and get itself killed. It really does not worry about things like that enough. 

“Stop calling him that!” the sister snaps. “He has a name! He’s Lee! Just say ‘Lee’!” 

“Seriously?” his host says. “We’re arguing about whether or not you’re going to kill us and you care what he _calls_ me?” 

“Yes!” the sister says. “You’re not a _possession_ , for God’s sake!” 

“I genuinely could not care less,” Zuko’s host says. 

_“Lee,”_ she says, looking—frustrated? Pained? Zuko’s not sure. It’d probably be easier to tell with his host’s memories to fall back on, but all he has is, well . . . instinct, and nothing else. And instinct is not the same thing as socialization. “Don’t you want to be free?” 

“I’m a lot more free now than I was before,” Zuko’s host says. “I _like_ Zuko. He’s good to me.” 

“How can someone controlling you like that be _good_ to you?” the sister says. The youngest female grimaces. 

“Yeah, that sounds like hell,” she says matter-of-factly. “Seriously, that doesn’t make you crazy?” 

“Zuko takes care of me,” Zuko’s host says. “And I take care of him. We’re better together.” 

_“Better,”_ the sister says in disbelief, the youngest female looking skeptical. 

“Better how?” she asks. 

“He gets a better body, I get to be safe, and we protect each other,” Zuko’s host says. “And we can help each other out if one of us fucks up.” 

“You really feel that way?” the brother’s mate says. 

< It is Yeerk propaganda, > the Andalite says coldly. < They will say anything to get a host to submit to them. >

“ _Zhao_ fed me propaganda,” Zuko’s host says. “Zuko’s never lied to me. I want him back.” 

“You _want_ a Yeerk in your head,” the youngest female says. 

“I want _Zuko_ in my head,” Zuko’s host says. “He’s mine.” 

Zuko feels . . . odd. He wants to say something, but he’s not sure what it would be. He thinks he’s . . . 

Pleased? Is he pleased, that his host doesn’t want just any Yeerk? That he wants specifically him? His last host didn’t care who was in it, so long as it was allowed to stay close to its mate. This host cares about being near its mate, yes, but apparently it also cares about being near _him_ , which is . . . strange. 

He’s not used to anyone preferring his company, besides Mai Six Two Four. And that was . . . different, obviously. They weren’t in each other’s _head_. 

He wishes he were in his host’s head right now, so he could understand what the other’s saying better. 

“That’s so messed up,” the youngest female says. 

“It’s not your _business_ ,” Zuko’s host snaps at her. “Either kill us or let us go. Zuko needs to feed.” 

< Gladly, > the Andalite says, cocking its tail blade. 

“Lu Ten, _no_!” the leader says quickly, stepping in front of it. “It’s not— _they’re_ not—” 

“Oh my God, are you seriously having trouble killing us because we’re human?” Zuko’s host asks. “Do you want me to morph, would that make it easier?” 

“That’s not what I said!” the leader says, though he looks guilty. “It’s just—you’ve been fighting with us all this time. Doesn’t that _matter_?” 

< No, > the Andalite says. < They are a Yeerk and a traitor. >

“They’ll tell Ozai Three about us,” the sister says. 

“Yeah, probably,” the youngest female agrees. 

< I mean . . . > The brother trails off doubtfully, sounding undecided. 

“What if we go with them?” the brother’s mate says hesitantly. “To the pool, I mean. And make sure they don’t . . . tell anyone. Then after Zuko feeds we’ll have three days and we can make a better decision, not rush it.” 

“You seriously want to be seen at the pool?” the youngest female asks. 

“We could morph,” the brother’s mate says. “Like Lu Ten does when he’s human—so we look like different people.” 

< That is not a simple trick, > the Andalite says. < It takes practice. >

< I mean, _you_ could do it, right? > the brother says. < Mix up a different human from the usual cocktail. >

< They do _talk_ to each other, you realize, > the Andalite says. < In the pool, at a frequency human ears cannot discern. >

< Oh, yeah, that’d be a problem, > the brother says. < Well . . . >

“It’s not necessary that we go to the main pool,” Zuko says. “There’s an emergency pool in my host’s basement. Azula Eight Nine Five ordered its installation in case something ever went wrong. It’s enough for me to replenish myself with.” 

“So . . . sneak two Lees back into town without running into any Controllers, including the one they’re dating and the one they _live_ with,” the youngest female says. “And without getting spotted by our families, who think we’re all camping in the woods right now. Yeah, sounds like a good time.” 

< Or we just kill them and be done with it, > the Andalite says. 

< Uh, I don’t know about _you_ but I don’t wanna dig a shallow grave for two, > the brother says. < For one thing, what happens if somebody finds their bodies? That’d be a whole thing, I’m betting. >

“No one will find them if we drag them out deep enough into the forest,” the sister says darkly. 

< Okay, creepy, good to know you’re prepared for that eventuality, > the brother says. < Except the forest is exactly where people would be looking for them, for starters, because we came up with this whole camping excuse. And once again: Controller. So useful. I cannot even exaggerate how useful. >

“He’s not going to _tell_ us anything!” the sister says. 

“ _We’re_ not,” Zuko’s host says firmly. 

“Okay, but . . . you don’t want to tell anyone about us either, right?” the leader says uncomfortably. “I mean, if you tell any other Yeerks about us, we’re all going to get infested and Zuko’s going to die.” 

“Right,” Zuko’s host says. 

“So, like, this is a mutually assured destruction scenario,” the youngest female says. “We get caught, you guys go down same as us. Except Zuko, I guess, Zuko gets to die. Everybody else is stuck with an evil brain-slug for the next sixty or seventy years.” 

“We’re not _evil_ ,” Zuko says in frustration. “We’re just trying to live.” 

“You can kind of see how functionally there’s no difference, right?” the youngest female says, folding her arms and gesturing with one hand. “Like, it doesn’t matter if you’re _nice_ about it if we don’t want you in our heads. And we are _also_ just trying to live, ideally without getting bodysnatched.” 

“That’s not . . .” Zuko hesitates, not sure how to finish the sentence. It’s not like she’s wrong, exactly, but . . . 

“Still better than letting most of the species run their own lives,” his host says with a shrug. “We just keep screwing everything up worse and worse.” 

“We’re not going to be _better_ if we get taken over!” the sister says. 

“Sounds fake, but okay.” 

“You—!” 

“We can sneak back into town,” the leader interrupts. “We’ll split up, just in case we run into anybody. One group takes Lee, the other takes Zuko, and we’ll meet at their place. Is your dad—uh, the Yeerk in your dad—is he gonna be home?” 

“No,” Zuko’s host says. “He’s on the same feeding cycle as Azula Eight Nine Five and Zuko are. He’ll be at the pool.” 

“So the house’ll be clear,” the leader says. “We can get Zuko fed and back in Lee and then come back out here, and then . . . we’ll figure out the other stuff then, I guess.” 

< Prince Aang, with all due respect, that is a _terrible_ idea, > the Andalite says. < We cannot trust a Yeerk’s word, much less the word of a Yeerk sympathizer. >

“See if I ever buy you Cinnabon again,” Zuko’s host says. The Andalite glares at it, tail twitching with barely restrained violence. 

< You are not funny, > it says. < We should kill you. >

“Really? ‘Cuz it seems like _Prince_ Aang doesn’t wanna,” Zuko’s host says. 

< Prince Aang is more merciful than I am, > the Andalite says icily. 

“You already stabbed me once, gonna go for it again?” Zuko’s host taunts. “C’mon, go ahead and prove just how good and _noble_ Andalites are.” 

“Please don’t aggravate the Andalite,” Zuko says. They have enough problems without the Andalite getting more upset than it already is. 

“Aang, you _know_ we can’t trust them,” the sister says. 

“I’m not talking about trusting them,” the leader says. “It’s a compromise. Just for now.” 

< Compromise with Yeerks only leads to them crushing and subjugating the innocent, > the Andalite says. 

“Zuko’s _not_ doing that, though,” the leader says, gesturing helplessly at him. “I mean—have we met any other Yeerks like that? Whose hosts actually _like_ them? _Are_ there any other Yeerks like that?” 

“Of course there are,” Zuko says, offended. 

< Really? Name five, > the brother says. 

“I mean . . .” Zuko hesitates, and everyone looks at him. He _knows_ there are other Yeerks whose hosts like them. Of course there are. There wouldn’t be voluntary hosts at all, otherwise. “There _are_.” 

< Still waiting on the five, > the brother says, scratching behind his ear. Zuko opens his mouth to answer, but doesn’t actually have an answer. < Yeah, didn’t think so. You’re the exception that proves the rule, dude, might as well accept it. >

“That’s not true,” Zuko says, but every example he can think of is dead, whether by Ozai Three or some other superior officer or an Andalite’s hands. But—they _existed_ , they were real, and obviously there’s more like them. Of course there must be. 

Maybe, it occurs to him for the first time, the front line of a war is not the kind of place Yeerks like him end up very often. 

He still doesn’t actually know why Azula Eight Nine Five picked him for this mission. 

“We’ll take you to your house,” the leader says. “Sokka, Suki, Toph, you take Lee. Lu Ten and Katara and I will take Zuko. We’ll meet there in an hour. And if anything goes wrong . . .” 

“Kill him and run for it?” the youngest female suggests. The leader grimaces. 

“Just run for it,” he says. “ _All_ of you.” 

“Oh, fine,” the youngest female sighs as the Andalite grudgingly starts to morph. 

“Where’s Lee’s spare clothes?” the leader asks. 

“In the barn still,” the sister says, glowering at Zuko. “I’ll get them.” 

“How long does Zuko have left in morph?” the leader asks. 

“One hour and thirty-two minutes,” the Andalite says, shaking its human hair out of its eyes with a sour expression. “Minnnnutes.” 

“Okay, good,” the leader says. “We can get there in time. You guys go ahead, alright? Lee needs to get cleaned up. And we’ll meet you there.” 

“If you hurt him, I’m hurting you,” Zuko’s host says. 

“We’re not gonna hurt him,” the leader says. 

“Unless he makes us,” the sister says. Zuko’s host glares at her, but it squeezes Zuko’s hand one last time and then lets the other three lead it away, and Zuko feels . . . very strange, watching it go. 

It’s been a long time since he and his host were separated from each other. At the pool, yes, but . . . 

The sister leaves, presumably to retrieve the clothing. The Andalite steps back, folding its arms. The leader . . . 

“Are you okay?” he asks tentatively. Zuko just blinks at him, not sure how to respond. “I mean—Yeerks are blind, right? The first time Toph morphed something with working eyes . . .” 

“Oh,” Zuko realizes. “No, I’m used to seeing. All the hosts I’ve been in had working eyes. And I can see when my host morphs, too.” 

“Makes sense, I guess,” the leader says. “Um . . . you’re not cold, are you?” 

“Yes,” Zuko says. He _is_ naked in a drafty wooden shack. 

“Sorry.” The leader winces. “Katara will be back soon. Um . . .” 

“Um?” Zuko tilts his head, and still feels very strange about the fact that it’s _his head_. 

“Nothing. Sorry,” the leader says. “This is probably weird.” 

“The thing where you’re not killing me because I look human?” Zuko asks. 

“. . . yeah,” the leader says uncomfortably, eyes flicking away for a moment. “That thing.” 

“That’s normal,” Zuko says. “Hork-Bajir and Gedd do that too. Not Taxxons, but Taxxons _eat_ each other, so. And Andalites do it, obviously.” 

“Of course a Yeerk would know that,” the Andalite says, its lip curling. “Know. Knooooow.” 

“Like an Andalite’s never snuck in anywhere they didn’t belong in morph,” Zuko says. “Can you seriously not control the vocal tics? _I’m_ doing it fine.” 

Admittedly, he’s had a lot more human practice than the Andalite. But who cares; it’s an _Andalite_. 

“What a surprise, a Yeerk can control something,” the Andalite snaps back. “Ingggg.” 

“What a surprise, an Andalite feels superior,” Zuko retorts, and then, spitefully, “Superioooor.” 

“Please don’t fight,” the leader says with a sigh. “Look . . . Zuko. I know you’re not on our side, really, but . . .” 

“But what?” Zuko says. “I won’t betray my people for you.” 

“We’re . . . not asking you to,” the leader says slowly. The sister reappears, holding a small pile of folded clothing and sneakers. Zuko eyes her warily, and she shoves it at him. 

“Hurry up and get dressed, Yeerk,” she orders. 

“Don’t give me orders, human,” he says, bristling. 

“ _Please_ don’t fight,” the leader says. “Toph is right. If we don’t work together we’re all in for it.” 

“You could’ve just let us go,” Zuko says, grudgingly unfolding the clothes and starting to dress himself, which is a very strange experience. 

“We are _not_ doing that,” the sister says. 

“I’m going to have to report to Azula Eight Nine Five eventually,” Zuko says as he pulls his host’s shirt over his head. 

“We’ll burn that bridge when we get to it,” she says. 

“. . . isn’t it ‘cross’?” 

_“No.”_

“C’mon, let’s go,” the leader says. “We don’t wanna get you stuck in morph, that’d be _really_ hard to explain.” 

“That’d be your problem,” Zuko says, but he puts on his host’s sneakers and follows the leader out of the shack all the same. The sister and the Andalite follow him, and the back of his neck prickles. He doesn’t really like having them behind him, but at least neither of them currently has a tail blade, so that’s . . . something, he supposes. 

Probably the two of them together could still kill him, though. Humans are stronger than they look. 

“We’re gonna have to be quick,” the leader says. 

“Let’s, yeah,” Zuko says, and misses his host already. He feels alone in his head, and he’s not used to that. It’s _strange_ , and he doesn’t like it. “. . . do you have your cell phone?” 

“What?” The leader blinks at him. “I do, yeah. Why?” 

“I want to call my host,” Zuko says. “I don’t like not being able to hear it.” 

“Him,” the leader says. 

“Can I use your phone or not?” Zuko says, frowning at him. 

“He’s probably just going to text another Yeerk,” the sister says. 

“I’m going to _call_ my host,” Zuko says, scowling at her. 

“He has a _name_!” 

“I can call my own host what I like!” 

“He’s _not yours_!” 

“Yes it _is_!” 

“You can use my phone,” the leader says, thrusting it between them. “Just stop _fighting_ , please. We don’t want anyone to hear us.” 

“Fine,” Zuko says, and dials his host’s phone number. The sister makes a face at him; the Andalite looks upset. 

“Aang?” his host answers, sounding doubtful. 

“No,” Zuko says. “It’s me. I don’t like not being able to hear you.” 

“Oh,” his host says, clearly pleased. “Yeah, me neither. Are you okay?” 

“I’m fine,” Zuko says, sneaking a glance at the sister and Andalite. Neither of them looks any less upset by his existence, but he feels similarly about them. “Are you, host?” 

“Yeah,” his host says. “We’re just walking Warrior.” 

His host always was the better liar. 

“Okay,” Zuko says. “I don’t think I like being human. It feels strange.” 

“I mean, you’re pretty new to it,” his host says. “Like Toph, you know?” 

“I guess,” Zuko says. It’s true, it did take the youngest female time to adjust to the vision. He’s used to being human, though; it just feels—strange, like he said. Usually there’s something between him and his host’s body, but right now it’s just _his_ body, and he doesn’t like that. 

Maybe he wouldn’t like any morph, come to think of it. 

He probably should at least like this one, since it saved his life. 

“Are they in town yet?” the leader says. 

“Are you in town?” Zuko asks. 

“Not yet, we’re following the road in,” his host says. “Probably should’ve just morphed wolves and run the distance, but, like, phones.” 

“Right,” Zuko says, looking down at himself and not entirely sure what’s going to happen after this. “Host?” 

“Yeah?” 

“Stay on the phone, okay?” 

“Sure,” his host says. “Anything you want, Zuko.” 

“Thank you,” Zuko says, and then, hesitantly, “Lee.” 

His host makes a surprised noise, and Zuko’s face heats in embarrassment. It was foolish. A silly thing to do. 

“I’m here, okay?” his host says—Lee says. “Not going anywhere.” 

“Me neither,” Zuko agrees. “I’ll be here as long as you need me.” 

“I know that,” Lee says. “We’ll handle it. We always do, right?” 

“Right,” Zuko says, and glances at the others again as they walk. The leader is pretending not to be listening, but the other two are still eyeing him. If this doesn’t work out, or something goes wrong . . . “I’m glad you’re my host, Lee. You’re a very good one.” 

“Yeah, I know,” Lee says. “I’m glad you’re my Yeerk.” 

“Good,” Zuko says, and can’t really think of a way to put it any better. 

At least he’ll have Lee, whatever else happens.

**Author's Note:**

> [Tumblr!](http://suzukiblu.tumblr.com/)


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